


Into Her World

by astral



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012), bechloe - Fandom, staubrey - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Blood, Frustration, Gen, Humor, Multi, Mystery, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 11:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astral/pseuds/astral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe believes that some things are better kept secret. But how can she expect another to keep her secret if she has been unable to keep it to herself? [WARNINGS: future chapters contain blood, violence, gore and torture. You have been warned.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Her fists were balled up, her teeth clenched so tight that it hurt. The nurse around beside her remained standing like a statue. She tried not to think about it. She wanted to keep it in until she got home. Losing control in the hospital wasn’t Beca Mitchell at all.

 

She wished for a single peaceful day. No fighting. No violence. Just a dreamless sleep.

 

She was done with pretentions. She clutched the white sheet that covered the body in front of her, almost so forceful that the nurse had to pull her back out of the room. The moment she stepped out of the door, she took out her phone for the first time in three days. She ignored the flooding messages and missed calls and pressed 2 on the speed dial.

 

It didn’t take her one full ring for the other side to answer the call.

 

_“Beca, are you alright? I’ve been so worried about you!”_

Beca convinced herself that she wasn’t going to cry. Not now. But hearing Chloe’s voice at the other end of the line snapped her back to the harsh reality she wanted to avoid. She decided to call Chloe, of all people, because she listens. Chloe listens. And Chloe understands.

 

Beca took a deep breath. With all the self-preservation she had left, she almost choked her words, “Chloe, please, I need you.”


	2. Hidden

There were three things in Beca Mitchell’s mind as she walked away from her little picnic date with Jesse Swanson.

 

One. She and Jesse weren’t passionate. Singing to her in a cab was a sweet little thing but Beca couldn’t help but fear a little for her immediate future if she’s spending it with him. Jesse was a catcher. He knew his stuff and it wouldn’t certainly take him a long while to get to know hers. He was always around her, following her, finding ways to make her smile, and a whole lot of flirting. That wasn’t passionate at all, or even real. She was just another girl-experiment for Jesse. And Beca was smarter than he thinks.

 

Two. She still couldn’t believe that she was in an all-girl a cappella group - and that they were competing for the _Regionals_ next week. Their little group of misfits won in the preliminaries against outstanding odds. Beca liked humming tunes in the shower but other than that she’s pretty convinced that deejaying was more of her passion than her singing. So why was she even in the Barden Bellas if she didn’t like to sing?

 

Three. _Chloe Beale_. It was because of her that Beca joined the Bellas. There was that pull, one Beca couldn’t repel herself from. It was nowhere near logical but it felt realer than all of Jesse Swanson combined. And it was because of her, Chloe Beale that she was walking away from Jesse.

 

“Hey, you made it.” Chloe beamed as Beca got in the gymnasium, the Bellas’ lair. “I thought Jesse was going to steal you from practice again.”

 

“We’ll see if he can.” Beca sighed and laid her things aside, trying not to think about her shower scene with Chloe a few weeks back. She figured it would take months to take it off her mind. “We’re doing cardio today?”

 

The rest of the Bellas, all clad in tank tops, thin jackets, jogging pants and rubber shoes turned to her. Beca Mitchell never changed her outfit for anyone or anything.

 

“Did you tie him to a tree?” Amy asked, poker-faced.

 

“You swore an oath, Mitchell.” Aubrey stormed from across the gym, her eyebrows furrowed.

 

Stacie just arrived in short shorts, unnecessarily shaking her hips as she made her way to the center of the gym. A smile was on her plump red lips when she saw Beca. “I never thought you’d do that. You’re tough to get.”

 

“What?” asked Aubrey. “Stacie, don’t interrupt.”

 

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Stacie raised a sharp eyebrow. “Our Beca slapped their Jesse a while ago.”

 

Lily, who stood not far away, mumbled something. No one heard her.

 

Chloe cocked her head to the side, arms crossed over her chest. “Oh?”

 

Beca shot her a knowing look. “Okay so, I dumped him. He tried to kiss me. End of story. He won’t be bothering me or anyone of us.”

 

“Good.” Aubrey pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, too much drama. We’re wasting time. We should be starting our cardio now.”

 

Their cardio workout and practice went on for hours. Beca was sure that Chloe’s smile never faded in that entire afternoon.

 

 

\--

 

 

“Last time I checked, this is Bellas territory.” Aubrey marched to the gym entrance as the maroon-jacketed Trebles invaded their private space. “What are you doing here?”

 

Bumper and Donald went in nonchalantly. Bumper winked at Amy as he passed by. They zipped past Aubrey.

 

“ _Aca-scuse_ me?” Aubrey fumed. “How dare you ignore me?”

 

The Bellas looked at each other.

 

“As much as I loathe going in this estrogen-toxicated lair, we need to talk.” His dark eyes were intent on the redheaded Chloe as he approached her, fists balled to the side. He spoke between his clenched teeth. For one second, he looked like he was going to smack her in the face. “Whatever it is you’re doing, you need to stop.”

 

“Hey, we’re working out here?” said Cynthia Rose.

 

Beca stood up instinctively. She waved her hands. “No Bumper. You, need to stop.”

 

Donald’s face had gone serious too. His dark complexion was scary under the bright lights, his brooding eyes glaring at Beca as he blocked her way to Bumper. “You don’t have anything to do with this.”

 

“I didn’t go to your place walking around asking for authority.”

 

“How indecent can you guys get?” Aubrey rolled her eyes. She pointed to the entrance. “Go back to your place or find some other place to bother. That way you won’t get in our way in the Regionals.”

 

Bumper turned to her. “Just give us a moment, Aubrey - Chloe and Stacie. Then you can go back to pointing your fingers trying to find a sign that will never be found as long as we sing.”

 

“What’s with the scary frat boy talk?” Amy interrupted.

 

Chloe and Stacie stepped out. “It’s okay. We’ll talk.” Chloe sighed, her electric blue eyes darting from Aubrey to Beca to Stacie to Fat Amy to the rest of the Bellas… and finally to Bumper and Donald. “Outside.”

 

Beca watched with suspicious eyes as Chloe and Stacie led the guys outside. Aubrey called the rest to continue with their cardio, not even bothering to call them back. Beca tried not to think about what her instincts were telling her. She had always known Bumper and Donald as the goofballs. And she can tell right now, that they weren’t just the same a cappella singing jerks she had known.

 

“So what was the holdup?” She asked when they returned without the guys.

 

“Bumper thought we  _stole_  his chem lab manual.” Stacie said.

 

“Did you?” asked Cynthia Rose.

 

Stacie rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Lab manuals were passed last week. We couldn’t have stolen it.” She winked at Beca. “Even if we wanted to.”

 

“Do you share a lot of classes?” asked Beca, her eyes hovering to Chloe who hasn’t said a single word, to Chloe who found Beca’s all-purpose boots more fascinating than the actual conversation.

 

The redhead snapped out of her trance, blinking a couple of times. “We… uh… have advanced chem together and history.”

 

“Okay, everyone, let’s get back to work.” Aubrey forced a huge smile, clasping her hands. “We don’t want to waste any more time.”

 

Beca’s eyes followed Chloe and Stacie, passing it as a normal thing to do. Stacie was still the sensual, seductive hip-swaying Stacie. Chloe on the other hand, was disoriented. She would space out, and jerk her head all of a sudden with a small frown on her lips, as if she was solving a puzzle in her mind. It troubled Beca, even if Chloe told Aubrey that she was just dizzy from not getting enough sleep last night.

 

“Hey,” Beca caught up to her after the afternoon session.

 

Chloe turned. Their eyes met, an unspoken connection bridging the gap between their thoughts. The more Beca stared at her face, the more she saw the stress lines on her forehead, the more she saw the unnatural frown on her lips, the more she saw that Chloe wanted to tell her things but she could not.

 

“Did they scare you? Did they threaten you in any way?” Beca asked, because if they did, things were bound to get worse. “We can’t let you be bullied by those jerks, Chloe.”

 

Chloe smiled, though Beca couldn’t exactly tell whether she was forcing it or not, it looked both. “Beca, I’m fine. Bumper just wanted his lab manual back.”

 

“That’s taken care of, wasn’t it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay…” Beca shrugged, her eyes spotting the fork on the left to the radio station. She had to work overtime today, considering that the practices were getting in way of her CD stacking duties. “I’ll just… go.”

 

“Take care and um…” Chloe nodded. She still had the confusing almost painful smile on her face.

 

Beca wanted to ask what was wrong but she didn’t have the authority. Not yet. Until she earns the right to ask Chloe of her personal feelings, Beca was to stop prying.

 

“Just take care, Beca.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just squeezed the second chapter right there. I appreciate people leaving comments and constructive criticism. And donuts. Next chapter will be up next week, hopefully.


	3. Root

This was it. The big day. The Regionals. Beca Mitchell was miraculously looking forward to this day. She got up early, showered thoroughly (her Titanium scene with Chloe still looping in her mind over and over again), and gave Kimmy Jin another shot at roommate-friendship.

 

“It’s the Regionals today and I’m not excited. I’m just ecstatic.” Beca smiled uneasily, fixing the yellow scarf around her neck. Her eyes were on the broad expanse of Kimmy Jin’s insensitive back. “It will start in the evening so I still have time to visit my dad and stop by the radio station before the competition starts. Hey— Why am I even telling you these things?”

 

Kimmy Jin, with her eternally silent and boring demeanor, went on with adding golden leaves to her miniature golden prosperity tree.  Everything about her was east Asian, her squinty eyes, her flawless skin, her dark flowing hair, and Beca didn’t have a problem with that at all. Kimmy Jin was actually cool. Beca doesn’t normally reach out to people but with her, she at least wanted them to be on speaking terms.

 

When Kimmy Jin didn’t budge after a couple of seconds, Beca took a deep breath. She swung her bag around her shoulders and went out. “Thank you for wishing me good luck. Have a great day, roommate.”

 

 

\--

 

 

 With the depressing Kimmy Jin experience, Beca made up her mind to go and visit her dad just for the sake of seeing their house. It had been two months since she last went home. She’d occasionally bump her dad in Barden but seeing their house was another thing altogether. It wouldn’t hurt to remember her childhood.

 

She sat in a cab, in her navy blue flight attendant performance uniform, earphones plugged in her ears, busying her thoughts with the latest remixes she had done over the weekend. Her eyes found solitude in watching the skyscrapers outside the windows. It gave her the feeling that everything just comes to pass.

 

_Beep._

She dug her pockets for her phone and to her surprise; there were a lot of unread messages. Another new experience since she joined the Bellas. The first one came from Amy.

 

_We’re gonna own the stage tonight. Spotlight will be on my awesomeness, but, yeah… Let’s kick the Treble’s non-existent asses! Go Bellas!_

She rolled her eyes, a smile forming on her lips. Typical Amy. The second one came from Aubrey.

 

_5pm SHARP. There will be NO late excuses. See you later._

She had already laid her schedule out weeks before. She’d be at home from 10am-1pm, then she’d go back to the university. By 2pm, she’d pay Luke, their senior deejay, a visit and make up for the time she showed up late for her duties because of the a capella group's practices. By the time she ends her work shift at 4pm, she’d be meeting up with the rest of the Bellas. By 7pm, they will be going up on stage and prove the Trebles wrong.

 

The next message came from Jesse.

 

_If you want a moviefication, I’ve got the best movies here. I’m still open for friendship or whatever you want. Good luck to us later._

She ignored it and read her last message. It was the latest, the one that triggered the _beep_. It was, of course, Chloe - _the_ Chloe and Beca had to remove her earphones from her ears from to concentrate on the hundreds of words that screamed through the screen.

 

_I’ve been finding you ever since this morning. I went to the radio station and you weren’t there. I heard from Kimmy Jin you’re going back to your house. Why is that? Aubrey’s calling for an emergency rehearsal. Can you make it back in an hour? It’s not too late to turn around. Life will be better. Or so I say. Maybe. Maybe not.  Call me when you get this. I have something important to say._

The brunette quickly replied. _You’re so weird._

Of course, it was Chloe. They’ve exchanged long senseless messages before.  This time she noticed, Chloe’s senseless ramblings lacked credibility. Surely, she must’ve received her bestfriend’s text of meeting at 5pm.

 

Beca pulled the cab over to stop in front of her house, a two storey house with a deep setback and a wide garden, light blue and teeming with curb appeal. Her family is - _was_ \- rich. It was basically the reason how she got all the top-notch music software. Last year, her parents got divorced and her mother got the upper half of all their shares. Considering her father was a teacher in Barden, it was very practical to get Beca to study there for free.

 

 _Beep,_ her phone said but she barely glanced at the message before she got in.

 

Baked cookies, lazy Sunday afternoons, pruning the garden… Every memory of her childhood seeped back in her mind. She missed watching The Simpsons with her parents on weekends. She missed the smell of pancakes her mother would make every Thursday. She missed everything about the house—light colored walls accented with warm honey, the furniture all made out of mahogany, the unused fireplace silently sitting at the end of the living room... The Barden dormitories would never compare to anything about her house - nothing ever would.

 

This was everything Barden wasn’t. This was home.

 

A loud creak came from upstairs. Beca called aloud. “Hello? Dad, are you here?”

 

No response. She tiptoed her way to the spiral staircase, peeking through the black metal balustrade. The loud creak came again, and her hand found the antique baseball bat resting near the couch. “If I find out that you’re a thief, I’m going to be sure that you’ll be in prison for at least half your lifetime!”

 

She found every reason to make a run upstairs at the third creak, the most loud and disturbing and ominous, the baseball bat tight in both of her hands. Broken shards of glass decorated the staircase. Her throat ran dry at the sight of rivers of maroon dripping from the top of the staircase. 

 

 _Beep._ But Beca had no time for messages. Someone had broken in their house. Scared. She was scared.

 

She couldn’t remember what part she saw first. Her mind was too fogged, too excited for the Regionals, too unfocused to believe what she saw. But she knew that she had seen her father sprawled on the top of the staircase swimming in his own pool of blood, his hand keeping the door to her room open, the one that made creaking sounds. The hand was outstretched and broken, the bones sticking out to the surface, piercing his skin. And as Beca tried to knock some life into him, she held him, held her father, held the man who chose her over money.

 

“No— no, dad, look at me. You’re gonna be okay.” She pleaded, her face contorted in both fear and desperation. Her heartbeat pulsed in her head, a nervous thump, gooseflesh prickling her pale skin. _This is a dream, wake up_. She screamed in her mind. _Wake up_. “Dad, don’t give up. Someone’s going to help you. You’re going to be okay. Just hang on.”

 

Jonathan Mitchell, Dr. Mitchell to every student in Barden except for one, could not be saved. He knew he couldn’t be. What happened to him was entirely his fault. Beca was just not lucky enough to have him as a father. He tried to speak, he wanted to. But everything was dimming. Light was being stolen from him, from seeing his daughter’s face, from seeing the pair of eyes he lived for every second of his life. He was sorry.

 

_Wake up._

 

“Dad, NO!” That and another train of words spilled out of Beca’s mouth. She pleaded, she yearned, she begged, but none of it sufficed. She held her father as light fled from his eyes.

 

Tears, which she had become a stranger to, made their way through her eyes. The next thing she knew she was pulled away, stripped from the man that kept her alive to this day.

 

Tears, which she knew she was going to be acquainted with again, blurred her vision. People danced in front of her eyes, colors swirled, the world turned upside down.

 

Tears, which she wanted to stop but didn’t, introduced her to a new kind of pain, one that she never thought would come to her all of a sudden, on the day of the Regionals.

 

Grief.

 

Another blink and it was in the middle of the night. Beca was back in the Barden dormitories, sitting on her bed, still wearing her flight attendant uniform. She took out her phone and read the messages she didn’t have time to read a while ago. She started reading from the oldest message, the one that came to her when she first stepped in her house, to the latest.

 

_Beca, I know I’m weird and I know you’re reading this. Please call me. This is urgent. I need you to call me._

_We don’t have time. Please, listen to me for once. Turn and go back to Barden. I’m pleading. You can let me do whatever you want. I promise Aubrey will excuse you from cardio. Just turn back._

_BECA DON’T GO IN YOUR HOUSE_

_I CAN’T FIND DR. MITCHELL TELL HIM HE CAN’T GO INSIDE THEY’RE IN YOUR HOUSE_

Chloe’s flood of messages might have meant something more sinister, something darker. But Beca was in no condition to deal with the unknown as of the moment. Here comes a nice day, one of Beca’s few happy days… She had been actually excited—thrilled at the thought of performing again with the Bellas. This day, _Beca’s happy day_ , had to be her father’s dying day. Her father, whose body was almost tattered with gun shots, whose entire left hand was crushed, whose voice couldn’t be found even in the last moments of his life, was killed.

 

“This is real, isn’t it?” Beca stared in the darkness of her room, her eyes stinging. “I’m alone.”

 

“You’re not alone. We’re all here for you, Beca.” Chloe whispered back, her hand rubbing Beca’s shoulders, pulling her close. “You’re not alone. I’m here. Aubrey’s here. Kimmy Jin even stayed for you. You’re going to be fine.”

 

Beca’s thoughts were in disarray but she had enough self-preservation left to keep her from breaking down. She was strong. Her father would have wanted her to be.

 

“This wasn’t random, was it?” She asked. She knew the answer before she asked but when something you expect happens, things become scary. “This wasn’t just an accident.”

 

A few seconds passed before Chloe muttered. “No.”

 


	4. Surface

She paced back and forth, biting her nails. Over the course of no more than eighteen hours, she never thought she could feel all emotions in such a short time span. She was busy running errands everyday but _yesterday_ was one heck of a roller-coaster ride.

 

“You can even bite your fingers off but it still won’t change anything.” Stacie leaned back on the leather reclining seat, drying her nails. “Just go for it, Chloe. Protecting her will be very difficult if she won’t allow you to. Do it.”

 

Chloe froze for a second and turned to her. “For someone pretending to be my junior, you sound very unconvincing.”

 

“Reality check, I’m three months older than you.” Stacie cringed at the unequal layer of glossy coating on her left nail. “Damn. Aubrey can you do my left thumbnail again?”

 

Aubrey rolled her eyes and got up from the couch. “Why don’t you ask me to call you Princess while you’re at it?”

 

“Okay. Call me Princess.”

 

“Don’t even bother.” Aubrey crouched down and polished Stacie’s nails again. Since last week, Stacie had been living in Chloe and Aubrey's dorm room because she thought it would be more appropriate. When Aubrey turned her offer of swapping rooms down, she simply crashed in. And as much as Aubrey wanted to kick her out, she didn't have the authority. Besides, Chloe sided with Stacie. Even if she was her best friend, the ginger was bonded with Stacie in entirely different level. “You are not getting Beca Mitchell dragged in your mess.”

 

“Since when did you take a liking to Beca? Is this a change of heart?” Stacie chuckled.

 

“She doesn't have to be a part of this.” said Chloe, who was now walking in circles. “She has a choice. Everyone has.”

 

“She’s already in it.” Stacie shrugged, a sly smile on her full red lips. “Aubrey, if you ever change your mind, I’ll welcome you with open arms.”

 

Aubrey turned to her. “I’m around you, but I’m not in your mess, Stacie. I got away from your evil clutches and I will, again, if I need to. Beca’s just a girl. Let her be.”

 

“She’s got spikes and spunk. She’s tough and she slapped Swanson on his first attempt to kiss her. And don’t forget she’s the Bellas most influential member.”

 

“ _Aca-scuse_ me? I am the most influential member. I run the group.”

 

“And Beca’s slowly inching her way to your throne. She’ll take over sooner or later.” Stacie rolled her eyes. She turned to Chloe who was going mental in front of Aubrey’s enormous mahogany dresser. “The timing we have now is almost perfect. Jonathan Mitchell is dead and we can use Beca's fueled sentiments and turn it against them. And when we have her, our chances will be as clear as crystal. Easy breezy.”

 

“I can’t believe I’m putting nail polish on the toes of the world’s sadistically sensual Princess.” Aubrey muttered, sighing.

 

“I like the way you say Princess.” Stacie giggled. “It’s like you almost mean it. Oh, and sensual. You said sensual.”

 

The blonde had it. She laid the glossy nail polish on the floor and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

 

“Give her a break, Stacie. You don’t want her throwing up on your lower body.” Chloe groaned, her eyes following her feet as she paced endlessly. “We’ve got more serious problems to deal with.”

 

“Then what are you waiting for? Do it!” Stacie said. “I don’t know why you've become very concerned with Beca but if you want to help her, you have to let her be in this mess or whatever this is. If you don’t want to sacrifice her innocence, she’ll be forever searching for her dad’s killer without having a chance of truly knowing who it was. It would be like you’ll be leading her on for the rest of her life. So why not do it now, for a cute little shortcut?”

 

“You know what happens when I do, Stace.” Chloe sat on her bed beside Stacie. Her head throbbed from thinking of the endless possible endings, not one promised a bright future. “I don’t want to risk my chances and drag Beca down with me. We barely know her, Stacie. What’s her mother’s name? Her middle name? Any siblings? Where did she go to school? See? We don’t know much about her yet we’ve been debating whether to adopt her or not.”

 

Stacie shook her head, chuckling. “I honestly don’t care about her or her feelings, Chlo. I’m just interested in her because her history’s tangled with ours. If I’m correct, which I always am, she’s of valuable use to us. It’s you who give her special attention. I don’t know what you see in her, but I’m letting you decide.”

 

Chloe went back walking back and forth again, a new trail of thoughts in her mind. Stacie was right. Beca Mitchell was no one when she came to Barden. When she joined the Barden Bellas, she was labeled as the rebel chick who could actually sing.

 

But that was all.

 

What troubled Chloe was why was she so drawn to the girl. She was frustrated for not knowing what made Beca so attractive in her eyes. She just couldn’t leave her alone. 

 

 

\--

 

 

It was a cold Thursday on Dr. Mitchell’s funeral; Chloe was in an all-black cocktail dress under her light brown cardigan. The sun was hiding, dark clouds decorated the sky. The hundreds of gray slates of the public cemetery bore witness, with a small flock of people. A flap of white tent would cover them from the impending rain but it would not stop the wind from sending shivers down their spine.

 

Chloe, Aubrey and the rest of the Bellas stood behind the second row of chairs, in front of them, Beca’s relatives. A lady stood in front of Aubrey who looked a lot like Beca; small built, tall-bridged nose and high cheekbones. If her sunglasses were removed, Chloe knew she had the same huge beautiful eyes as her junior’s. Her hair, on the contrary, was darker, almost black, making her flawless skin stand out more. Gold rings decorated her wrist, a silver pendant of a bird hung around her neck and crystal gems stood on the rings on her fingers. She didn’t speak to anyone so no one announced that she was Beca’s mother but the similarities were too obvious to be mere coincidences.

 

The funeral trudged on, Barden University students and faculties gave their eulogies, as well as Dr. Mitchell’s brother. Beca’s eulogy was simple. She just thanked her father for everything. She didn’t cry. No trace of tear was seen beneath her dark sunglasses. Her eyes might have been reduced to a stinging red, but she didn’t cry this time. She was past that stage.

 

After the ceremony, the lady that looked like her, her mother, more or less, approached Beca, who stood beside Chloe and Aubrey, who was clad in a black and white dress, the patterns of which resembled a chessboard. Before the lady got closer, Beca excused herself and walked away.

 

“She must’ve forgotten who I am.” The lady said and Chloe stared at how she and Beca were similar, even to the voice. She extended her hand. “I’m her mother, Virginia Parker or Parker-Mitchell, in honor of my dead ex-husband. Serves him right for leaving me. That bastard.”

 

Chloe cringed at how carefree she said that her husband was dead, like she wasn’t related to him in any way. And to top all of that, Virginia’s smile was still on her lips. That sadistic, almost cruel smile that told you that whatever happens, she will remain cold and cruel. The ginger didn’t want to judge right away but she can’t help it.

 

It was Aubrey who took Virginia’s hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Aubrey Posen, and this is Chloe Beale. We’re the leaders of Barden University's all-girl a Capella group, the Barden Bellas, and your daughter's a member.”

 

Virginia’s smile got wider. In the upper row of her small teeth, a pure golden canine tooth gleamed. “Leaders? Isn’t there supposed to be only one leader?” She turned to Chloe. “There can’t be three Queens when there’s only a King. The King is dead, but the three Queens are still alive. I’m the original. I should be the last one standing. Am I right, dear?”

 

Chloe shot Aubrey a warning look. She walked them farther to the cemetery, away from the crowd. She, Aubrey and Virginia stood facing each other, in the middle of gray tombstones and slates, too close for privacy and too far for carelessness. The cold breeze warned them of the impending rain.

 

“Are you going to take Beca?” Chloe asked, her eyebrows furrowed. “She isn’t ready.”

 

Virginia clasped her hands, her smile never vanishing. “Are you threatening me, child of Valery?”

 

“How did you—” Aubrey interrupted.

 

“I know a child of hers when I see one.” Virginia scoffed, giving Chloe a disgusted look. “When I _smell_ one. Beca is mine. I decide what to do to her.”

 

“She decides for her own.” said Chloe. “She doesn’t even know anything.”

 

“That’s easy. I’ll tell her everything she needs to know.”

 

“That won’t be necessary.” Stacie stepped out from the shadows. Her velvet-black cocktail dress was embroidered with plush gold and diamond and her dark hair was tied in a bun above her head, a golden headband serving as her crown. Her eyelids were smoky, her marble-black eyes glinted, and her luscious lips, a rich red, slowly curved as she smiled. “I’ll tell her myself.”

 

Virginia’s smile vanished. “I didn’t know you’re friends with my daughter, Stacie.”

 

“I am not.” Stacie towered over her, just like how easily she towered over Beca. “Now tell me, why did you order Valor to kill your ex-husband?”

 

“What?” asked Aubrey.

 

“Why are you blaming Valor?” asked Chloe, eyes-wide. “We don’t have evidence. Your word can spread as far as the Marfori’s.”

 

“Valor has every reason to kill Jonathan Mitchell.” said Stacie, her eyes hard on Virginia who glared back. “They’re power hungry, violent and fueled by hate. You could easily ask them for something like this and they’d do it happily.”

 

“And your evidence?” Virginia smiled. “I’m sure you must have something to prove that I did all of this, that I want to kill Jonathan. Because if you’d ask me, I truly and endlessly  ** _love_**   him.”

 

“Love doesn’t exist from the likes of you, old hag.” Loud obnoxious laughter came from behind.

 

A click came from the bushes behind Chloe. She turned around to see Bumper and Donald, both in black tuxedos. In Donald’s hand was a black handgun, pointed at Stacie. As soon as she sensed it, Chloe pulled her silver revolver from the inside of her cardigan and pointed at Bumper.

 

Stacie sighed, and Donald’s grip on his gun tightened. “And they couldn’t just wait until we all get home. Do we need to do this now? My make-up took two hours, goddamn it.”

 

Chloe inched closer to Bumper, her eyes darting from him, who shrugged, Donald, who held his gun with two hands, Stacie, who rolled her eyes, mumbling at the inevitable disaster of her make-up, to Virginia, who stood from a safe distance, smiling and Aubrey, who was always in the middle of this, stood motionlessly beside Virginia.

 

Of all places and occasions, they choose to make a scene in Dr. Mitchell’s funeral.

 

“I haven’t seen your disgraceful lineage for a long time. This is a surprising turn of events.” Virginia turned to Bumper. “You smell like rotten eggs, as always. Oh, you’re in the same school as Valery? How interesting! Donald, it was obvious that you screwed Jonathan! You could’ve killed him in a head shot but you ended up tearing him apart.” She laughed.

 

Donald’s eyebrows furrowed. He pressed the end of his handgun hard against Stacie’s forehead.

 

“Oh come on. Don’t smudge my make-up.” said Stacie. “Pretty please?”

 

Chloe aimed for Bumper’s chest. So they did kill Dr. Mitchell. Even if she denied it at first, Virginia said it herself. Valor killed Dr. Mitchell. Donald was the inhuman beast who disgraced his body. Donald was the reason why Beca was in deep grief. Donald pulled the trigger, to end Dr. Mitchell’s life and to start a new chapter to the never-ending list of history they all share together.

 

“We didn’t agree on this.” said Bumper. “We want our name clean.”

 

Virginia grinned. “Your name will never be clean as long as you exist, boy.”

 

Chloe wondered how long this encounter would last. She wondered if there was a safe way to get around this, with no one dying because Beca’s too broken to suffer another loss and another twist in her life. Chloe’s eyes found Aubrey’s green orbs. Her best friend, who was always in the middle of it all, always finds a way to get out of whatever mess she gets dragged into. And she always wondered how she did it.

 

When her eyes flew to Virginia, she caught the younger doppelganger hiding behind the nearest tree, behind Virginia and Aubrey. Beca stood there listening, watching, and judging everyone, judging Chloe, who held a gun.

 


	5. Pieces

Beca Mitchell’s life was not hers anymore. Everything was going out of control. She knew it all started when Chloe Beale called her, explained what a Cappella was and encouraged her to join. Her singing in a Cappella, that was beyond normal and when she joined the Bellas, her life took a new spin. Jesse hitting on Beca wasn’t normal too. She never gets guys and it was a proven fact. When Jesse tried to kiss her, it felt wrong and unjust, of all things.

Bumper and Donald asking for their lab manuals, her father’s brutal death, Virginia showing up in the funeral, not crying at the funeral and after, the Treblemakers and Barden Bellas seniors pointing guns at each other, her simple attraction for Chloe Beale turning to uncontrollable infatuation even after seeing her with a gun—nothing was normal about those.

 

“Look, you don’t need to know anything you don’t want to know.” Chloe pleaded, tucking loose strands of her red hair behind her ear. “You can walk away, move to another town, start a new life and forget everything that happened in Barden.”

 

“Easy, huh?” Stacie winked at Beca, sipping her orange juice.

 

“Yeah, I guess I’ll do that.” Beca nodded, rearranging her thoughts. She shifted on her seat, an antique rocking chair. Stacie’s house - _mansion_ , was a few blocks south of Barden. The University required students to live in the dormitory rooms they provided so she lived both here _and_ in the dormitories. The ancestral house was at least a century, in Beca's guess, from the pieces of antique porcelain and paintings of Stacie's ancestors that lined up endlessly against the walls. “Well, no, not really. I’m already in this. Whatever you got, throw it at me.”

 

Stacie grinned, raising a full brow. “See, I told you, she’s got spunk.”

 

Chloe took a deep breath, easing herself on the couch in front of Beca. “Okay, Aubrey?”

 

Aubrey was sitting around the dining table in the kitchen, a good distance away from the rest of them. Her chin was lazily propped on her elbow, her other hand busy from flicking the hundred and one channels of Stacie’s flat screen dining TV. She mumbled. “Time to spill the lies…”

 

Beca bit her lips, her eyes intent on Chloe. “I’m ready.”

 

“We’ll I’m not really a freshman.” Stacie started off, still grinning. “I’m older than Chloe and Aubrey. Not really _that_ old, just by half a year from Aubrey and three months from Chloe. So by tradition, I _am_ your senior, Mitchell. Wait, is it traditionally or technically?”

 

 _“What?”_ It wasn’t this kind of revelation that Beca was expecting but it startled her, in the least. “Why? Do you enjoy gaining academic knowledge that much?” The lasting impression Stacie gave her was the typical high-school semi-bitchy girl who loves sex and the E! Network more than anything else. “Wow. I’m starting to feel like things are really messed up around here.”

 

“It is.” Aubrey said from the kitchen.

 

“Thank you for the introduction.” sighed Chloe, looking up at the lady sitting on the armrest.

 

“No problem.” winked Stacie.

 

“So we’re going to take a trip down history.” Chloe took a deep breath and turned to Beca. “And trust me, it won’t be all unicorns and rainbows.”

 

The brunette glanced sideways. “I never said it’d be anything like that. Shoot. Bombard me with all this history. I can take it.” Truth was she didn’t know what to expect. A part of it scared her, that there's a possibility that what is about to be revealed is connected to her father's murder. And that she will be a part of it, one way or another.

 

Chloe nodded. “So other than mafias and drug dealers, every country has numerous organizations, hidden from society. They outrank all other organizations, given the fact that they pledge their loyalty even after death. In Georgia, we have three organizations, a—”

 

“Okay, you’re telling me you’re this mafia-drug-dealer-slash-assassination-slash-super-top-secret-spy group?”

 

“We wish.” said Stacie.

 

“No, we’re not that kind.” said Chloe. “We’re very territorial so our duty is nothing but protect the state.”

 

“You were pointing guns at each other in front of my mother.” Beca’s eyes darted from Chloe to Stacie to Aubrey in the kitchen. “Who do you exactly protect?”

 

“Questions will be entertained later. Just listen.” When Beca nodded, Chloe continued. “There’s supposedly one group every state in this country. But rebellion is a part of who we are and instead of one, Vancleave, one of the founding families of this town, we have three.”

 

Beca was about to raise her hand. Stacie spoke ahead of her. “Yes, the groups are named with either people’s names or surnames. It’s traditional, plus it’s cooler. Imagine having people referring to you as numbered agents, animals or single syllable names. Disgusting.”

 

Chloe continued. “The leaders of the groups are royalties, the Kings and the Queens. Their lineage is passed down to their first-born to keep the organization’s secrets and authority within their family. Decades ago, around 1920, the royalties of Vancleave gave birth to fraternal twins, Valor and Valery.” She paused for a while. “Stories say that the twins were, initially, the best of friends and that they wanted to take over Vancleave as brother and sister. No one knows what started their feud but they grew up loathing each other. Valery and Valor became two separate groups, and Vancleave kept its silence up to this day.”

 

“It’s like Bellas and Treblemakers all over, I know.” Stacie smirked. “Georgia is prone to gender-related fights, even before.  Valery’s the chicks and Valor’s the dicks.”

 

Beca was nodding to every pause, her mind trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. In the least efforts of thinking did she find her answer. “You, Aubrey and Chloe are in Valery and the Trebles are in Valor.”

 

“Me?” Aubrey voiced out. “Never.”

 

“It’s just me and Stacie in the Bellas, who’re in Valery. It doesn’t mean that we have to recruit everyone in the group just because we’re a part of it. Aubrey knows things, but she prefers not to get personally involved.” said Chloe. “Bumper and Donald are the prominent members in the Trebles. Unicycle’s a Valor too, though he’s not much vocal about it. Okay, you can ask questions now.”

 

“So Vancleave don’t exist anymore?” asked Beca.

 

“They’re still around. But they prefer to keep a very low profile and not mingle with rest of the orgs. Someone in Barden might be one of them. We’ll never know unless they reveal themselves.”

 

“About the Kings and the Queens…” Beca leaned back. “I’m not sure I caught that part. Do they remain in contact with each other? Do you get updated when someone gets recruited from Valor or vice-versa? ”

 

“To keep the group alive, there should be either a King or a Queen or _both,_ like Vancleave, to lead. Valor only has a list of Kings and Valery, a list of Queens. The leaders have been fighting over numerous matters ever since Vancleave disappeared to neutralize them. The ancient family feud goes on. I think it’s natural, _instinctive¸_ even, for us to hate Valor.” said Chloe. “Bumper’s the next in line for the throne of Valor and in Valery,” She pointed up at Stacie.

 

“Yours truly,” She smiled.

 

“What?” Beca burst into a chuckle. Stacie, the once sex-addicted girl turned to be the heir of one of Georgia’s underground organizations. Beca’s mind throbbed at the thought of her carrying heavy ammunitions - if they even use those kinds. “First you’re older than me, now you’re the next Queen?”

 

“I’m a Princess, basically.”

 

“We don’t usually know if they recruit a new member but when you’re a part of an almost-century old group like ours, we’re to carry a symbol, a prestigious sign for all the other organizations to recognize where you came from.” said Chloe. “We have these brands, somewhere on our bodies… which we can’t show you because you’re not legally in this.”

 

“Yet.” said Stacie.

 

Beca cleared her throat. “And the connection to my dad’s murder to this is…?”

 

Chloe and Stacie looked at each other for one tense moment, silently arguing who was to break the news.

 

“Valor killed Dr. Mitchell.” Chloe’s eyes focused on Beca. “Donald did. We’re unsure why, but we know it’s him. It’s them. Your dad must have gotten into a little rumble that turned into a growing fight. Patience isn’t one of Valor’s strong points. They get angry, they destroy. They kill for the shallowest reasons.”

 

“Those violent dicks.” Stacie said. “They shoot whoever they want to.”

 

“Brutally? Inhumanly? Chloe, my father’s hand didn’t even look like anything when I saw him! Why— How could they do that?”

 

“Word gets around that they love to…” Chloe cleared her throat. She mumbled lowly. “…play first.”

 

On the last words, Beca bolted up, holding her breath. “I’m not saying I’m leaving this but I need to think things over. Donald can’t—as I’ve seen him, he can’t kill my father. No. Maybe he did, or he was forced, I’m not sure. I need some alone time.” She swung her back around her shoulders and spun on her heels, storming out. Her words came in small mutters as she walked away. “No, he can’t. Donald can’t…”

 

There was immediate silence in the house. Chloe and Stacie looked at each other.

 

Aubrey stood against the kitchen’s doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. “That was too much.”

 

“She needed to know the truth.” said Chloe. “And the truth always hurts.”

 

“Exposing her to the harsh realities of your society is okay but implanting biased anger to Valor just because you’re in Valery is too much. You’re not even sure it was really Donald or even Valor. Beca’s mother could have just played you.”

 

“Now you’re siding with them?”

 

“I’m not even siding with anyone to start with. Don’t manipulate Beca, Chloe. They can kill her immediately if they want to.” Aubrey shook her head and went for the door. “Just be sure you’re making good choices for her because I don’t want to be the one cleaning up your mess again.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“To Beca’s. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

 

As Aubrey reached for the doorknob, she heard the almost silent pulling of trigger before she fell. Pain stabbed her leg in waves of fury. Colors danced in front of her eyes, her arms and knees wobbly.

 

“You’re not going anywhere, Posen.” said Stacie, twirling the small silencer between her fingers. “Beca Mitchell is already ours the moment she stepped in this house.”

 

Chloe stared at her best friend as she crumbled to the floor, helpless; her ocean blue eyes cold and hard. There was not a change in her façade even when Stacie ordered her to get Aubrey out of the house.

 

Being an eternal rival to Valery, Valor had been tolerable. But when they showed up in Jonathan Mitchell’s funeral and carelessly exposed their secret to Beca, Chloe raged with fury. Because no non-member witnesses a confrontation of the organizations without ending up being hunted or being welcomed to the world of guns and roses.  It was one of the absolute rules of the organizations. Now only Valor or Valery could kill her or recruit her. They just have to be the first one to get to her.

 

Chloe half-dragged half-carried Aubrey outside through the back door. She disappeared for a while and came back with a first-aid kit with small steel clamps and syringes of morphine.

 

“You shouldn’t be helping me.” said Aubrey as Chloe helped her sit on the small plight of stairs.

 

Chloe shrugged, smiling. “Now, you’re telling me.”

 

“No, Stacie was right.” Aubrey flinched as Chloe examined the shot in her left leg. She glanced at the trail of blood she made on her way. Blood no longer disgusted her like it used to. Chloe getting bullets out of her was something she was getting used to, too. “She just didn’t want me getting more involved in this. I honestly didn’t believe I could talk Beca out of this either. And I can’t recruit her. I’m not a Valery, Chloe, and I think Stacie’s angry because of that.”

 

“You’re getting better at understanding Her Highness.” Chloe stretched Aubrey’s left leg, unflinching, injected morphine and gave her a towel.

 

“You’re still going to go after Beca, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a thought to ponder on. Aubrey bit the towel and braced herself.

 

Chloe shrugged, but her goals were already set.

 

Revenge on Valor. Make Beca Mitchell a Valery. _Own her_.

 


	6. Small Steps

  
Chloe caught up to one of the newest Treble in the cafeteria. Aubrey trailed closely behind as she followed him to his table, the Treblemakers table. “Jesse,”

 

Jesse Swanson sat beside Benjamin Applebaum, Jesse’s eccentric roommate, Unicycle Blithe, tall, dark and curly haired, the Treble’s embodiment of masculinity and Ethan Gilbert, the blonde and blue-eyed Treble who used to be active in Church choir until he met the Treblemakers.

 

“…Hi?” Jesse exchanged looks with the other Trebles as Chloe stood beside their table. Unicycle gave her a silent stare and munched on his apple.

 

“Have you seen Beca?” asked Chloe. She eyed the bandage on his left arm. “Oh my gosh, what happened to you?”

 

“Almost got ran over by a bike earlier this morning, no biggie. Um, Beca? No, we haven’t actually…” Jesse trailed off, pulling a chair from the nearby empty table with his uninjured arm. “I thought you were tight?”

 

“Okay, I’m going to hang out somewhere else.” Aubrey excused herself to go to the other end of the cafeteria.

 

“Should we sit somewhere else too?” asked Benji. He reached down for his magician’s hat underneath his seat. “I can give you another carrot for lunch.”

 

“I’ll be quick and no magic tricks for now.” Chloe sat beside Jesse, oblivious of the heated glances the Trebles were giving her, their contempt masked in seconds of silence. “She doesn’t return my calls. I can’t grasp her roommate’s schedule to ask about her, either. She doesn’t open up when I go to her room.”

 

“She’s not returning my calls either. She shut me off…” He shrugged. “I don’t want to invade her privacy.”

 

“If it isn’t too much to ask, can you call me if you have seen or heard of her?” She reached for her bag and tore off a sheet from her notepad. After scribbling her number on it, she handed it to him. “Please?”

 

Unicycle stared at her silently, eyebrows scrunched up.

 

“Yeah, I… Sure.” said Jesse.

 

When Chloe Beale had gotten up and dashed to Aubrey’s table on the other side of the cafeteria, the Trebles shrugged at each other.

 

“She’s lucky Bumper isn’t here.” said Ethan.

 

“I don’t know. She’s pretty cool.” Benji beamed, munching on a carrot.

 

Unicycle’s stare was on Jesse ever since Chloe left. He finished his apple and placed the seed neatly on his tray. “You’ll try, won’t you?”

 

“Beca needs help.” said Jesse. “And I want to be there for her.”

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

She busied herself in front of her laptop; creating remixes as much as she can. She felt like she was making pop danthologies of the entire 21st century - and the eras before. Her eyes stung, her fingers going numb from endlessly clicking the mouse and the keyboard.

 

Beca was crying. Tears tickled down her eyes but she made no attempt to wipe them. Whatever she does and will do, her father will still be dead. Nothing, no one, could ever change that. This is reality. Guns and underground organizations is reality. Death is reality.

 

The door swung open. Beca stared at the doorway, her stinging eyes desperately trying to make someone out of the dark blurry shape of a stranger.

 

“Hey, you left your door unlocked.”

 

And when she recognized the voice, she got up and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. They may not be passionate or even legit but Jesse’s one of the most humane people Beca had at the moment. She can work with that.

 

“Ow, easy. Someone’s injured here.” He had raised his entire left arm as she tackled him.

 

Beca stepped back immediately. Her eyes flew to the four inch wide bandage below his elbow. “Oh sh— I didn’t know. Oh my god, I’m so sorry Jesse. What on earth happened to you?”

 

He was staring at her face. “Have you been crying?”

 

“I asked first.” She hastily wiped her eyes, smudging her dark eye shadow, not that it mattered as of the moment.

 

“I was on my way to class this morning. Some drunken student on a bike almost ran over me.” He slowly put his arm down, gesturing to his injury. “If not for this lucky arm, I’d be dragged onto the streets and ran over by cars instead. Your turn.”

 

“I think my eyes got infected.” She rubbed her eyes.

 

“Yeah, right.” 

 

“Hey, I’m not lying!”

 

If there was someone close enough to her that wasn’t part of the mess Chloe’s world had, it was Jesse. With Kimmy Jin’s absence, they made themselves comfortable on her bed. It felt wrong but she didn’t have anyone else to crash into. She didn’t know exactly what to feel about Chloe and Aubrey and Stacie and Bumper and Donald and her mother and her dead father and everyone else she cares about. Jesse was what she needed at the moment. Jesse was realer than any of them.

 

“The Bellas didn’t perform in the Regionals and I’ve been missing a lot of school.” She spoke through the handkerchief on her face. “And without our participation in the Regionals, you’ll win the ICCAs this year. And that sucks.” Funny how she was still thinking of a Cappella when everyone else was pointing guns at everyone else’s heads.

 

He held her, one arm around her petite shoulders, and it still amazed him how much talent was stored in that small body of hers. “It means that we won’t be putting too much effort in this year’s ICCAs.” He chuckled. “I haven’t seen you with the rest of the Bellas either. Is there something going on?”

 

“No,” She shook her head immediately. “Truth is we don’t really hang out as we used to since the funeral. My dad’s death is the reason why we lost our shot at ICCAs. I’m taking the blame.”

 

“What? How can you say that?” One of the things Beca liked about Jesse was that he was down-to-earth. Everything would be spinning out of control but Jesse would still be deeply rooted in his spot, calm and collected, with a smile on his face. Being with Jesse was like being around a fireplace. He was always warm and open. “Aren’t you friends with them? I think they’re just giving you time for yourself. If you talk to them, I’m pretty sure they’ll talk back.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“So, are we…cool?”

 

_…back together?_

 

“Friends.” But then again, Jesse was still the Jesse that Beca turned down. She cleared her throat. There were only a few times when she felt uncomfortable in her own dorm room. That drew the line for him. At least It was better than being shut off from Beca’s life forever.

 

He was about to reach for his things when Beca caught his arm, the uninjured one. “Hey.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You and Benji are very good friends, right?”

 

“We’re roommates. Yeah. Why?”

 

“What if…” She eased herself on her bed and took a deep breath. Beca hated storytelling, let alone, be the storyteller. “Suppose you and Benji are very good friends. Like, super close. And you’re really honest with each other and—”

 

“No bromance.” He shrugged.

 

“No bromance.” She rolled her eyes. “Just that you’re really good friends and you don’t keep things from each other. But there’s this one thing that comes, and you can’t tell anyone else about it, especially Benji.”

 

He waited for a couple of seconds. “Um, do you just want my reaction to that or what I’ll do given the situation?”

 

“Both. What would you feel, not telling that thing to your best friend?”

 

“Okay if he knows me as much as I know him, even if I don’t tell him whatever it is that I’m keeping, I’m pretty sure he’ll read through me… and he’ll understand.”

 

Beca nodded. “Wouldn’t you feel guilty?”

 

“For what, for not telling a secret?” He chuckled.

 

“No, for not being completely honest.”

 

“Secrets are meant to be kept to yourself.” Jesse grabbed his things again and headed out in a rush. His injury was starting to itch.

 

“You still have classes?”

 

“Unfortunately. Thanks for letting me in, Becky. If you need something… or someone, call me.”

 

When Jesse shut the door behind him, Beca sighed and buried her face in her pillow. The silence of being alone was creeping up to her again. Her eyes flew to the top of her drawer instinctively as if she knew what was going to happen. Light flashed from the small screen of her phone.

 

_Beep._

 

\--

 

 

 

The moment Jesse got out of Beca’s room, he ran. His wound was burning; the skin underneath the thick bandage was torturing him. Heads turned as he made his way down the dorms, his face contorted from pain and frustration. The Treble’s special dorms looked like miles away. Every step on asphalt felt like an hour long, his wound eating up a bigger part of his skin as he ran. He bumped into people, one spilled her coffee, one dropped his books, one shouted at him, but he didn’t even pause to recognize his responsibility. He could bump into everyone for all he cared.

 

Jesse had already thrown his backpack somewhere on the bushes in front of the Treble’s dorm, his free hand fumbling to untie the bandage. His arm was hot and painful, as if a thousand needles were tearing his skin apart. Tears welled up his eyes as he slowed down. He pushed the glass door of the dorm with his back, his hand turning desperate. With all of his strength, he took the bandage to his mouth and ripped it with his teeth.

 

His first step inside was accompanied by loud cheering. The black ceiling was filled with red balloons, a long table was filled with buffet-styled servings, the table opposite it carried huge stereo systems and everyone’s favorite Jacuzzi was steaming. The lobby was filled with people. There were less than thirty of them, all men, all wearing black long sleeves, black slacks and slim maroon red neckties. They were all familiar in Jesse’s eyes. They were the ones who made him what he is today.

 

“Been busy with the ladies, Jesse?” Donald smirked at him. “I can’t blame you.”

 

Unicycle was smiling, his pearly whites as perfect as ever. “We thought you’d never make it.”

 

Everyone was nodding at him, beaming. Jesse looked down at his arm. His wound no longer burned and how happy he was. The skin was still swollen and throbbing but it was bearable. He smeared his thumb on it. It didn’t hurt like how he expected it to.

 

Bumper stepped forward, arms open, his hands full with wine glasses. “The time has come. Welcome, brother.“ He offered the glass on his left hand to Jesse. “Here is where we celebrate our existence.”

 

Jesse took the wine glass with his left hand. He raised it up, letting everyone in the room see the fresh brand on his arm. The swollen part formed the letter V on elegant script, the open end pointing to his hand. For now it looked like just the letter, but the small gashes on its end and around it bore minuscule designs and unreadable words.

 

He knew he would have to wait for the wound to heal completely for the small words to be visible but the happiness he felt as of the moment was worth everything he sacrificed. He was accepted without being judged. He was cared for. He was given a new family.

 

“For Valor!” Bumper grinned.

 

_“But there’s this one thing that comes, and you can’t tell anyone else about it, especially Benji.”_

Everyone raised their glasses in the air. Jesse was triumphant. “For Valor!”

 


	7. Pledge

 

Aubrey Posen sat upright on a polished wooden stool, her eyes focused on Stacie. As of the moment nothing could ever stop her; not even the freezing basement of the girl’s mansion, not even the uncomfortable territorial stares of the members of Valery, not even the part that every inch of her was in danger just for sitting on that stool, from glaring at Stacie.

 

“I’m just letting you know that if I’ve been given a gun, I’m going to shoot you first.” Aubrey spoke through her clenched teeth. 

 

Stacie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. She smirked. “No. You don’t do that to me.”

 

“She’s barely lived, Stacie. You know she’s not making the right choices for herself.” The blonde clenched her fists. She wanted to strangle the taller lady but she kept her fists on top of her lap. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

 

“Everything that Beca is doing is the right choice. For us, at least. For me.” Stacie looked down. Beneath Aubrey’s enraged eyes, there was tension and doubt. And _fear._  “I can’t believe you’re still here.”

 

Aubrey took a deep breath, one of the many deep breaths she had been taking ever since she went down and joined the event. It had been a full month since Stacie had shot her in the leg. A full month, and still her wound hadn’t been fully healed. Pretending to be uninjured in school was very tough.

 

For the first time, she gathered her courage and stripped her eyes away from Stacie, only to focus on the figures underneath the only light in the basement.

 

 

There were no dividers, just walls, trapping everyone in a wide underground box. Beca Mitchell stood in the middle of the big room. She was wearing nothing but a black cloak, her pale skin underneath shivering to the freezing near zero degree temperature. Above her was a huge circular bright light, the only source of illumination in the room. The closest being beside her was Chloe Beale in a gray cloak without the hood, strands of wavy red hair pooling at the base of her neck. Around her, about a good ten meter radius stood gray hooded figures, those of whose hoods effortlessly covered their entire faces. Beca could feel their judging eyes studying her, passing inaudible whispers, deeming her worthy or not. But she knew every single person underneath those hoods.

 

One of her task was to know each one of them while they made her ran for errands. There were 28 of them in Barden. The others were in far parts of the country, living their own lives. The ones left in town were alumni of the University, currently taking up their masters. Most were in their early twenties, more than half of them members of the previous generations of the Barden Bellas.

 

Apart from the gray cloaks that surrounded her, Beca knew Stacie was somewhere behind them. She had seen the Princess’s white robe not long ago. She knew Aubrey was here somewhere too, though not in a cloak like everyone else. For the past weeks of her initiation, Aubrey had been consistently trying to talk her out of it - and obviously failed.

 

Chloe, the only face Beca could see in the sea of shadows, looked at her as if she wasn’t the same girl she sang Titanium in the shower with. Her electric blue eyes were cold and blank, her ginger hair flashed like a warning sign. She held a black cloth with two hands. She spoke and mist formed from her chilly breath. “Princess.”

 

The sea of shadows made way for Stacie, who wore a white velvet cloak, her face visible. She approached Beca, her jaw clenched, her dark shadowed eyes looking at her in disdain, her luscious red lips pursed.  “Are you here according to your own will?” She asked.

 

“Yes.” She almost couldn’t part her lips. Her bones were shivering. Beca knew her admission to the organization was secured, Stacy said it herself, but she still feared the formalities. Her last few weeks were spent doing things the members of Valery asked her to. Do their laundry, not wear any make-up to school, not do remixes for an entire month, clean up the mansion at 3 in the morning— things that exhausted her physically and mentally. It was like she was a pledge and she was joining a sorority, only that if she doesn’t join, Valor will kill her and that Valery was more of an underground mafia than a sorority.

 

Chloe hovered around her like a ghost, stood behind her and blindfolded her with the black cloth she was holding.

 

Stacie continued. “The noble purposes of Valery are: enlightenment, sisterhood and the protection of Georgia…”

 

Aubrey sat still, slightly aware of the mist her breathing made. The delegates of Valery were evenly spread across the room, giving her a decent view. Before they encircled Beca, Aubrey swore they were glaring at her.  Fortunately, she was getting used to the cold treatment of the Bellas alumni. She sat still, drowning herself in the familiar voice of Stacie, who was asking Beca to repeat what she was saying.

 

_“I, Beca Mitchell, shall always keep the activities of Valery in secrecy. I will tell no living soul what is discussed in this meeting room now and forever. All words and discussion conversed here must remain within you as an act of will, sisterhood and all that is righteous. There is no acceptance of discussing secrets of Valery to anyone who is not a member of Valery._

_“I, Beca Mitchell, will always help another member of Valery when in need. All members of Valery are now my sisters and one of my family. I, in turn, now have a family of sisters whom I can call upon when in need._

_“I, Beca Mitchell, will forever seek after the safety of Georgia. As a daughter of the original protectors of Georgia, from which Valery was born; Vancleave, I will intervene if I discover anything that might disturb the people of Georgia._

_“I, Beca Mitchell, will never form a pact, temporary or permanent, with any member of Valor unless it is for the safety of Georgia. Shall any member of Valor be a threat to Georgia, I, Beca Mitchell, will inform Valery and under dire circumstances I, Beca Mitchell, will take the matter into my own hands._

_“Above all else, I, Beca Mitchell, will remain loyal to the members of Valery. I, Beca Mitchell, seek acceptance into Valery.”_

Aubrey had to tear her eyes away because Chloe reappeared beside the smaller girl, holding a hot iron, its end glowing a bright red. She had tried talking Chloe out of it but failed too. All the ginger wanted was Beca’s safety and she was determined to do everything she can, even if it meant she was the one branding Beca.

 

It was sad and painful—Beca’s screaming. And until it had died down, Aubrey’s eyes were shut, her hands covering her ears.  For once she was actually happy when Stacie spoke again. “The time has come. Welcome, sister.” All the lights flicked on, the hooded figures were gone, only to be replaced by faces that Stacie had been very familiar with. She broke into a satisfied smile and put an arm around Beca’s shoulders. “Here is where we celebrate our existence.”

 

Everyone else was smiling, patting the newly accepted Beca whose entire back was open, the fresh hot brand on her skin, blistered and smoking, coping up with the intense coldness of the room. Aubrey could only frown to herself.

 

Such a waste of a young heart.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

It took almost everything of her to do it. If there was any other way, she would have done it but there was none. Her uncooperative mind flashed back images of herself and her sinful deed. They were back in the mansion, everything was dark and ominous. She had stuck a white hot brand on Beca’s back. Chloe could never forget how the smaller girl’s face contorted from the physical pain she inflicted herself.

 

Beca was sitting on the ginger’s bed for almost four hours after the initiation, her back exposed. The wound was hot and blistering, still unable to be enclosed by clothes.

 

“I got your assignments from Kimmy Jin.” Chloe said when she arrived two hours ago, handing the smaller girl a handful of paperwork. “I’ve talked to some of your teachers, your chances of passing are still high.”

 

“Thanks.” Beca muttered out of her breath, her back aching from sitting upright for a long time. It was a bit cold, having her shirt lifted to her nape, her back, black bra and a part of her stomach exposed for everyone to see. She caught Chloe every time she glanced at her bare skin. “My back feels like a sticker collection. I was seriously thinking about getting another tattoo last week.”

 

Chloe moved, now sitting behind the smaller girl, her back against her headboard. She stared at the letter V, still throbbing a light red, on her flawless back.  Her fingers itched, and so did her lips.

 

“I want this, Chloe. Don’t blame yourself. I know you are.” Beca said, her voice barely a whisper. “I tried to confront Donald or Bumper or Unicycle but they kept avoiding me. Jesse was one of the things I held on to. When you called and told me he’s one of them too, I had enough. He talked as if he was still him. I couldn’t believe I fell for his tricks again.”

 

Chloe nodded, her eyes tracing the contour of her brand. She remembered how painful it was when Stacie gave her the mark. “Jesse’s their newest addition. Aubrey saw him running back to the Treble’s dorm, his mark burning his skin. They’re too coward to brand each other. They inject chemicals instead.”

 

“I’ve had enough of lies, Chloe. All I want is the truth behind my father’s death. No more lies.”  And when Beca felt a warm hand on her lower back, near her rose tattoo, she tried not to gasp. The hand crawled to her fresh wound and she braced herself. When the ginger’s thumb grazed over the letter, it didn’t hurt like she thought it would.

 

Chloe voice was beside her ear, hotter even than the branding itself, but not painful. No, definitely not painful. “No more lies, Beca.”

 

Beca knew what she felt in that moment. If there was anyone worthy of her trust, it was Chloe. Chloe and Chloe alone. She felt safe. She felt loved. And when she was about to turn her head in her direction, the door opened. Both looked away. Beca sat upright. Chloe was chuckling as she leaned back against the headboard.

 

“We seem to be in the wrong room, Aubrey.” Stacie walked in, a full smile on her lips.

 

Aubrey rolled her eyes at the sight of her best friend and Beca. They had it coming. She sat beside Chloe. “No Valor in Advanced Chemistry.”

 

“We’re always the winning side.” said Stacie, sitting at the edge of the bed. “They just realize it now. Oh well, those dicks.” She turned to Chloe. “How’s the mark?”

 

Chloe shrugged, smiling. “It should be fine by now.”

 

“Oh my god, you bitch.” Aubrey commented, pulling Beca’s shirt down. The smaller girl was staring at them with her dark-shadowed eyes.  

 

“Um, excuse me? Shouldn’t we be sleeping by now? We had a long day.” Stacie yawned. “Come on, people.”

 

“It’s only six.” For some reason, Beca felt weird to have her back covered by her shirt. She swung her bag over her shoulder. “I still have my duties to the radio station.”

 

“Sure, catch you tomorrow.” Chloe smiled a little. 

 

“To— Oh right, weekend get-togethers, sure.” Beca nodded and got out of the room.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

Aubrey shrugged Stacie’s head off her lap but the spoiled brat insisted on using her thigh as her pillow. “Tomorrow, Chloe, seriously?”

 

“Said Stacie.” Chloe shrugged.

 

“Okay, Stacie, she just got in. You got her. You don’t have to rush everything else.”

 

Stacie looked up at her. “Sure I do. Valor’s probably plotting things to make her switch sides. They can do that, for your information.” Her eyes flew to Chloe. “But I think Beca will be staying with us for a long time.”

 

“But still, you can’t—”

 

Stacie got up, her huge blue eyes hard on the blonde. “Why are you always this pessimistic? Things will eventually turn out right. You don’t have to stress yourself, Aubrey. You’re not even a part of this.”

 

“I’ve saved both of your lives more than once, hold on to that.” Aubrey’s sea green eyes flashed back. “Beca has barely coped up with her absences and don’t even try to deny that it wasn’t because of your initiation. She couldn’t even get up last Wednesday because she barely slept for two days! Can you at least give her some time to adjust to everything you’re throwing at her?”

 

“We didn’t ask for your help or your consideration.” Stacie stood up and looked down at the blonde. “The moment you turned me down to free yourself from responsibilities and commitment also removed your right of voicing out your thoughts on anything that has to do with Valery.”

 

“Um, guys, we shouldn’t be fighting…?” Chloe said.

 

Aubrey had stood up too, her jaw clenched. “But you can’t live without me, Stacie. Admit it. You could’ve killed me long time ago but you didn’t. You’ve let me live this long and that’s enough for me to know that you need me.”

 

Stacie’s forehead scrunched, her jaw clenched tight. “I want to kill you, Aubrey. Believe me. I want to kill Unicycle, your brother, and everyone you love. I want to, but I can’t.” 

 

“Unicycle disgusts me. You can kill him, I don’t have anything against that. My brother is incurable. You can kill him too. But I am happy with my life. I don’t have to be a part of everything but I can still look after you. Both of you.” Aubrey said. “As long as by the end of the day, you’re alright, I can live with that. Even if it meant I’m risking my neck for knowing things I shouldn’t.”

 

Chloe had to look away. One, because Stacie and Aubrey never fought this bad verbally and she felt like she was invading their privacy. And two, because there was a heavy tension all over them, one that was very intimate at the same time. She wouldn’t want Stacie pulling her gun out again.

 

“The next time we fight like this, I swear I’m going to kill you, Posen.” Stacie fumed, storming out of the room.

 


	8. Humanity

Normally, Beca’s Saturdays start off with a box of Fruit Loops and a bottle of milk. This Saturday was composed of three huge chunks of bread, bacon and eggs and a tall glass of orange flavored Gatorade.

 

“I can’t finish all of these.” She muttered under her breath, her eyes sizing up how long it would take her to finish her meal. She yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Is this all part of the special Valery diet regimen?”

 

Chloe stood opposite the counter. “Yes. Yes it is.”

 

“What kind of weekend get-together is this?”

 

“You’ll have to see for yourself.” The ginger chuckled.

 

Beca sat opposite the kitchen counter and was about to dig in. “Hey—“ She looked up at Chloe who was staring back at her, a smile on her lips. Beca rubbed her eyes and it was indeed, _Chloe Beale._  And yes, she was wearing black leather jacket on a white shirt and skinny jeans as if that would help Beca stitch the fragments of her half-awake state. “You snuck inside  _my_  house  _and_  made breakfast for me?!”

 

“I just made breakfast.” The ginger poured herself a glass of juice.

 

“I made the sneaking in.” Long legs overflowed from the sofa. Dark curly locks overflowed from the opposite side.

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Beca heaved a sigh. She went on with her breakfast. After a few minutes of silence, she looked up at Chloe. “Okay, why am I not hearing Aubrey right now?”

 

“Ssh, don’t say bad words.” Stacie voiced out.

 

Chloe shrugged, leaning closer to Beca. “You  _know_.”

 

Even after joining Valery, Beca’s mind still overflowed with questions with which, she knew, the answers took time to form in front of her eyes. She swore an oath to death. All she has to do was to unravel her father’s murder story and wait for the answers to her questions in between. One of her questions was why was Aubrey so entangled in their story, in Barden’s pretty little secret, when she isn’t even a part of it. Come to think of it, her mother was in this mess, too.

 

“How…” Beca kept her voice as small as possible as she ate. “How is my mother a part of this?” Chloe had leaned against the counter but she continued, nevertheless. “I never got the chance to talk to her that day. She just walked away after I stepped out. Gone. Again. Just like that. You never mentioned anything else about her too after that. And— and I don’t want to ask because maybe you don’t want to t—”

 

“Certain people know.”  Chloe’s back was disposing of the leftover over the counter. Her fingers toyed the silverware. “We don’t know how. They just do. Just like Aubrey, your mother must have been close with someone from other organizations outside the state.”

 

“So she wanted to  _protect_  me? After leaving us, she wanted to keep tabs on me?”

 

“It’s bad enough that your mom knew about this stuff before you got in Valery. I don’t know what her reasons are but she didn’t just go to the funeral to see us fight with Valor.”

 

“Stacie mentioned my mom ordered them to kill dad. I mean, is that even allowed? To have someone assassinated? I thought everyone’s duty was to protect people? Chloe?” When Chloe took her empty plate and glass without a word, her eyebrows scrunched. “Do I even know anything about what I got myself into?”

 

No one spoke another word after that. After half an hour, Beca found herself sitting on the backseat of Stacie’s red convertible, wearing her own new black leather jacket and designer stamped jeans. Stacie drove silently, huge Ray Bans covering her eyes while Chloe sat on the passenger’s seat, avoiding Beca’s gaze from the rearview mirror.

 

 

 

\--

 

      

 

8:33AM. Aubrey jumped out of bed and ran to take the shower, swinging her towel around her shoulders in haste.

 

“You never said you have something scheduled today.” Her mom called from downstairs.

 

“It’s okay mom. I got this!” She shut the glass door close and splashed herself with cold water.

 

She knew she’d oversleep, she always does on weekends. Alarms don’t work when she sleeps on her bed because unlike the ones in Barden’s dorms, it was comfortable. Of all weekends, she oversleeps on  _this_  Saturday. Gods forbid, Stacie and Chloe must have dissected Beca right now.

 

Aubrey pulled off her favorite fuchsia top and paired it with her favorite cream jeans, hoping that her early misfortune might be flipped by her good vibes. She grabbed a couple of toast and hurried to the door, her hands fumbling for the car keys in her shoulder bag.

 

“Aubrey,”

 

The blonde immediately spun on her heel and gave her mom a light hug. “Bye mom,”

 

“Take care, honey.”

 

Aubrey turned the teenage boy beside her. He was younger than her but he has the same shade of blonde hair and sea green eyes. He looked normal if not for the permanent smile on his face and his seemingly painful blinking.

 

“Bye Peter,” Aubrey messed his short-cropped hair. His eyes wandered to her toes and slowly made her way up her eyes, his smile never leaving his face, never embarrassed of his jagged teeth.

 

She didn’t wait for his reply and hurried to her car. Aubrey knew where Stacie was taking Beca, alright. When Chloe was newly recruited, she had been there with her, helping her cope up with the overwhelming pressure. But at that time, the ginger didn’t need any help. She had an uncanny talent of doing Stacie’s bidding effortlessly, as if she was  _born_  for it. Aubrey could only hope Beca was as tough as she looks.

 

 

 

 

 

A huge abandoned warehouse stood at one of Barden’s road ends. In the middle of the overgrown grass that went high up to her knees, a one-storey seven meter tall building blended with the background. The faded gray walls were vandalized in bright neon hues, the doors merely four-meter wide pull ups. The establishment was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest house was about a mile and a half radius away, but even that  _house_  was the organization's guard house. Aubrey got in as easily as any member of Valery could and hastily parked her car on a spot beside a red convertible.

 

The sound of her boots’ heels clacking on cement was the only sound she heard as she slipped in the warehouse. Not a soul was there. Of course, they were all underground. Aubrey pulled the tattered rag from one of the corners and went down the hidden stairs.

 

She would be lying if she said she doesn’t get nervous every time she barges in Valery territory. Heads turned at her arrival, members momentarily stopping what they were doing to glare at the blonde. Lounges were everywhere; ladies were dancing at the center of huge square room, all in black leather jackets and slim jeans. In one corner, someone was fanning over the grilled barbeque and burger patties, an exhaust fan on the ceiling above it. In another corner a group of ladies were throwing silver daggers on the dartboards that lined up along the walls. Not far away, someone was juggling five handguns by the trigger. Everyone around her laughed.

 

Aubrey couldn’t see the trio anywhere. At one point, she thought of asking someone for their Princess’s location, but with the murderous territorial look on her faces, she just decided to check the rooms one by one. She stumbled upon couples making out and just wide empty rooms. She was about to open the last room of the left wing of the warehouse’s basement when she heard voices.  _Their_  voices.

 

Aubrey rushed to the door opposite her. The mahogany door was encased in gold linings, just like every door you can find here, only that the inscription of the V and its subscripts were golden, unlike the black metal paint of the rest.

 

“Think about all the things you can do after this.” Stacie’s stern voice echoed from the other side.

 

Aubrey twisted the unlocked knob and swung the door open. The size of the room was massive—it didn’t even look like a normal room anymore. Instead, it was more of a training ground. Punching bags hung from ceilings on one side, exercise machines on the other side, an entire wall were decorated with hanging knifes and ammunition encased in glass. On the left was a counter, a tall slim middle-aged lady standing on guard. The moment Aubrey opened the door, the woman saw her, glared at her, but made no attempt to dismiss her.

 

“It’s alright, Beca.” Chloe’s voice rebounded against the silent confinement of the huge room.

 

Aubrey felt how every muscle on her lips curled downwards with every step she took to the far end of the room. She had been in this place before, half a year ago, when it was Chloe’s turn. It was history repeating itself again. The unfurnished walls were splattered with dark red, and so was the floor, contrasting the unblemished gray of the training ground. Stacie and Chloe stood not faraway from the smaller girl, watching her as she stood alone on one side. Her shoulders were hunched, and her black leather jacket climbed up her to her arms in massive clumps of fabric.

 

The blonde approached Stacie with careful steps. Beca glanced in their direction for a second but turned her attention back to the dummies that stood ten meters in front of her.

 

“I wonder if you’ll be able to sleep tonight.” Aubrey uttered the words out of her mouth like a curse. “You just can’t resist not playing the bad girl, can you?”

 

Stacie’s eyes never left Beca. “You know everyone has to go through this.”

 

“It’s alright, Beca.” Chloe said, oblivious to the presence of her best friend. “You can do this. You have control.”

 

Beca cleared her throat again, wiping her sweating forehead with the back of her shaking hands. Her lips were pale white as she gripped a black pistol, her legs wobbly. She stared at the floor for a few moments, her heart hammering in her chest, her thoughts blank. Her eyes were aching. She wanted to cry, to choke out the lump of sawdust that formed in her throat. It pained her all the more when she realized she could not.

 

“Aim and shoot, Beca.” Chloe reminded her.

 

She nodded, taking a deep breath. Her clammy hands secured her grip and slowly, she looked up at the dummies. Her stomach doubled over again. She wanted to tear her gaze away but she did not, because she knew her duties. This is what she signed up for. Three dummies stood in front of her, tall and life-sized. Each one was dressed differently, but they were all of the male physique, flesh rotting away to moldy green and yellow and blue and violet. All three dead bodies had their heads decapitated, blood dripping on the rim of the roughly sliced necks. As how differently each one was dressed, they all bore the same head. How Valery made it look terrifyingly real, Beca had no idea and she didn’t even want to know. She stared back at one pair of eyes that stared lifelessly at her. Her heart ached at the intense longing. One anger-filled flick and one of Dr. Mitchell’s heads exploded a splash of dark red that added color to the walls.

 

Aubrey had looked away to avoid the mess, but Stacie and Chloe had not moved an inch.

 

“You did well. Two more, Beca.” said Chloe, smudging the blood stains on her face with the sleeves of her jacket. Pain. Aubrey couldn’t see anything else on her best friend’s face but pain. “Just two more.”

 

Beca turned to Chloe, her face as white as a sheet. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face garnished with blood stains, every part of her body shaking. Seeing her dad die in front of her eyes was terrifying enough but killing the image of her father with her own hands was driving her to insanity. His familiar brown eyes bore holes in her chest, as if he was waiting for her to get it over with and end the misery. “Two more.” Her voice cracked. She turned to Aubrey and Stacie. “Two shots and no more?”

 

Aubrey could not bear to look at her. She looked away, wiping the tears that escaped her eyes. Stacie nodded at the brunette, not even bothering to wipe the dark red splashes on her face and gave her a reassuring smile. “Just two more, Beca.”

 

Aubrey turned to Stacie, still rooted to her spot, like a frozen statue. The taller girl’s eyes were focused on Beca that whenever the brunette would glance at them, she would nod instinctively. Aubrey thought back when Chloe was shooting her grandmother’s heads, Stacie had also been standing still, giving reassuring nods. Then Aubrey thought of the rest of Valery. Stacie must have done the same thing too. Aubrey had been quite thankful for Chloe’s courage. She had not broken down like Beca had. Chloe was special.

 

Yet Stacie just stood there, her face cold, her jaw clenched. Aubrey thought about seeing thirty or more Becas, grieving, breaking down, severely aching. She thought about how Stacie handled everything, how she was fighting to keep all her emotions to herself for the sake of her members, how it was hurting her tenfold to see every single one of them go through the merciless tradition, how being the royalty left her without a choice but to see everyone in the weakest, most vulnerable parts of their lives and not being able to do anything about it.

 

Stacie scoffed, her eyes still focused on Beca who had just shot another head. “Psh. What are you crying for, Posen, Beca’s humanity?”

 

Or she could just be inhumanly sadistic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while to get out of my head.


	9. Queen

She walked graciously, an air of meticulousness surrounding her. Her steps were well placed, her limbs perfectly coordinated as she made her way to the training room. The lady behind the counter bowed low as she passed by. She cringed at the mess in front of her. Her nose crinkled at the tangy smell of blood. She eyed the four girls on one side. Three were laughing. The blonde one, the one who wasn’t quite a part of them, was sulking at the corner. She approached the blonde for her back wasn’t facing her.

 

“Did Stacie put you up to this again?”

 

The three stopped laughing. Aubrey turned, eyes wide. “Um, no—It wasn’t like that. I was just—”

 

But Stacie had flung her arms around the woman’s neck by then. “I missed you,”

 

“I missed you too, honey.”

 

They hugged tightly, smiles on their faces. As they let go of each other, Stacie immediately asked. “I thought your flight was next week?”

 

“Oh, you know the Forsberg. They always want to get things done right away. And of course the Cavendish are as fickle as ever.” She turned to Beca. “Ah, you must be the tough green leaf my daughter’s been talking about. I hope you’re not regretting your alliance. I’m Eloise Conrad, Stacie’s mother,” She smiled confidently, a hand outstretched. “Queen of Valery.”

 

_Queen._

 

_Queen of Valery._

 

Beca tried not to choke, not to keep herself from being too mesmerized by woman in front of her. Eloise looked liked an older but equally hotter Stacie; tall, statuesque and with the right body proportions. Her eyes were light blue, her nose, her lips full and her dark hair flowed straight to her lower back. She wore a black leather jacket and slim jeans like everyone else just that she looked rather endorsing the suit. A pair of silver diamonds decorated her ears, as well as a silver pendant of a lizard.

 

Beca shook her hand. “It’s my pleasure to meet you…um…” Meeting _the_ Queen while surrounded with bloody walls and broken paint was not what she had in mind.

 

“Eloise will be just fine.” The woman grinned. She turned to the ginger. “How have you been, Chloe?”

 

“Very fine.” She beamed. “I’ve been teaching Beca the ropes.”

 

“Wonderful, and Aubrey, I suppose Valery haven't been giving you troubles?”

 

The blonde shook her head. “No, not really. They’ve been very… welcoming, as always.”

 

“So what brings you back home exactly?” asked Stacie.

 

“I’ve got certain things to discuss with you,” Eloise winked. “Plus it’s the weekend, I’m here to party. Now if you'll excuse us.”

 

Stacie rolled her eyes, chuckling. “Yeah, party, right.” They talked and walked away, having a world of their own, leaving Chloe, Beca and Aubrey by themselves in a matter of seconds.

 

“I’ve always been wondering why it looks like Stacie’s the only one in charge.” Beca followed Chloe as they went out to the main hall. Aubrey trailed behind silently.

 

“That’s just for the past couple of months. The royalties counsel within themselves too, you know. And it’s not just a series of meetings; it takes months for them to agree on to something.” The ginger said. “But it had always been Stacie’s duty to do the oath-taking and watch you do your first three gunshots. Besides, the past three months were peaceful enough.”

 

“Peaceful. You called Valor’s murder of my dad -  _peaceful_.”

 

“You’re actually lucky. Last spring break was hell. We were all up and running against Valor. Eloise never left the mansion until she was sure they wouldn’t be bothering us for a while.”

 

“She knows about my dad’s murder, doesn’t she?”

 

Chloe chuckled. “Of course, why else would she come here a week earlier? Stacie’s a very talented informant.”

 

The noise from the hall was getting louder, the music lyrics become clearer in their heads. Imagine Dragons’ _Radioactive_ was playing. Multihued lights flashed everywhere and the ceiling was lighted up to a haze of dark violet with swirls of blue and red and orange.

 

“We’re forever in a war, aren’t we?” Beca asked before the noise drowned her voice.

 

“Until one side wins, yes.” Chloe smiled.

 

 

 

One lady from the dancing group at the center of the hall approached them. She was about their age, tan and blonde, like one of those campus volleyball players. She grabbed Beca by the wrist and gave her a shot glass. “Come on, Becs. We’ve been waiting for you. Time to have fun with the newest sister.”

 

“Um… Oh—Kelly.” Beca blinked from the lights. She wasn’t too enthusiastic about the heavy drinking and partying but she let herself get dragged. It wouldn’t hurt to have fun sometimes. Besides, she’s never been to a club before, and the hall was the perfect imitation of one. She looked back to the ginger in hopes of dragging her.

 

“You go have fun!” Chloe shouted to the distance, waving her own shot glass. She turned to Aubrey as she gulped down the vodka. “Remember aca-initiation night?”

 

The blonde rolled her eyes, easing herself on one of the stools over the bar counter. The girl behind the counter pretended to wipe the wine glasses on the opposite side. Chloe sat beside her and gave her own shot glass. She turned to the redhead over the counter. “Eloise won’t be happy when she hears how you’ve been treating Aubrey.”

 

The redhead took a deep breath opened a new bottle of vodka and handed it to Aubrey before serving another member.

 

“That’s better, Paige.” Chloe flashed her smile before turning back to her best friend. “I kind of miss our batch of Bellas. We don’t hang out like we used to.”

 

Aubrey poured herself a glass. “Tragically, I will never be able to redeem my lost dignity. Imagine the crushed dreams.”

 

“Come on, Aubrey. You did Beca a huge favor when you decided to cancel our performance.”

 

“What was I supposed to do? We couldn’t sing on stage while one of Bellas members just witnessed her father’s murder!” The blonde poured herself another glass. “It was very stupid of me to believe that you genuinely got her to join the Bellas because of her voice.”

 

“What? You know that’s not true. Beca’s talent amazes me. That’s why I asked her to join. Dead father or alive father, it doesn't make much of a difference. I'd still recruit her.” Chloe waited for Aubrey’s snarky response but found her drinking from the vodka bottle instead. “Hey—Aubrey—your tolerance for alcohol isn’t very— _Hey!_ Give me that.”

 

Chloe finally got hold of the half-empty bottle but Aubrey had more than enough. The blonde was slowly swaying on her seat, her elbows propped on the counter to support herself.

 

“You know what Eloise’s return means?” She mumbled, eyesight blurry. Colors danced in front of her eyes and she felt herself getting heavier by the second. “We’re on war again. As if it will ever end… Someone’s getting killed again. How many were you last spring break? Nearly forty if I remember right…”

 

“Okay that’s it, I’m getting Stacie.” Chloe stood up and turned to Paige. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

 

“What about Beca, Chlo?” Aubrey mumbled through her half-closed eyes. “Will you continue to guide her through the ropes?”

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

Stacie Conrad was driving a passed out Aubrey Posen home. It was nearly midnight and Sunday was a few ticks away. She tried reasoning with her mother about the blonde’s condition, about her having her house a few kilometers away but Eloise was in no condition to lose over an argument. She had insisted taking Aubrey to the mansion.

  
The night air was dry. The midnight streets were as silent as ever. Though it was not one the highly urbanized cities in the country, the dark night sky was different tonight. She glanced to the passenger seat from time to time, making sure the other girl wasn’t resting her head on the edge of the door. A convertible without a hood wasn’t one of the best cars for taking drunk people home.

 

“I can’t believe Beca can hold her liquor better than you.” Stacie shook her head, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. “Do you know what my mom told me a while ago? She said we should be honored because you’re that one person we let in this generation. She was thankful that we didn’t choose an indecisive lunatic to share the group’s tradition with, unlike granny’s time. Mom said that girl nearly burned the entire mansion.”

 

A honk from behind returned Stacie’s attention to the road. Chloe and Beca were trailing behind the convertible, driving Aubrey’s car.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

If you were given a chance to live in a new world, would you turn it down? You wouldn’t.

 

Especially if you’ve got nothing to lose but yourself.

 

Chloe’s words echoed in her head that night while they were in Aubrey’s car.

 

_“The Trebles forfeited in the ICCA’s. Bumper, Donald, Unicycle and Jesse dropped out from the university at the same time but with different legit reasons. Stacie says Eloise know why. They might be after something that is connected to Dr. Mitchell’s death.”_

 

What sense does sitting in school the entire day have when valuable life lessons are learned in the rough streets? Apparently, everyone has become obsessed with the fact that their lives weren’t normal and has decided to stick with it.

 

Wasn’t it too shallow, for Valor to drop out in the middle of the school year? Beca thought so too. They must be chasing something worth their sacrifice, something that will surely prove their superiority over Valery and force them into submission.

 

She has a choice, just like everyone. Her father might have been greatly disappointed had he been alive, but a small part in her hoped that he was proud because at least she was trying to do something in her life. She was finding the justice that should have been served months ago.

 

Beca dropped out of school too. Her reason was that she got accepted in a known music academy up north, which Paige, who was a head of a department in the said academy, signed herself. After all, when you have the strongest connections in society, won’t you use it for your own good?

 

Chloe and Stacie dropped out too, although Stacie was reluctant. She had been looking forward to graduating this time. Aubrey, on the other hand, didn’t let her friends’ decisions affect her own. After all, she still needs to be a doctor in the soonest possible time for her brother.

 

It had been barely a week since Beca’s initiation but they didn’t wait any longer. She and Chloe moved in the Conrad’s mansion for the time being, and Eloise insisted Aubrey should, too, even if she was to continue her studies. It took her a while to convince the blonde—so she convinced her mother. Aubrey ended up staying in the mansion too.

 

Eloise had eyes and ears everywhere. Her spies ticked on members of Valor that were in Barden while the number of Valery members in the mansion—those who were young, had no family of their own, and have yet to prove their loyalty to the sisterhood, ten of them, devised strategies, laid out maps of Valor’s headquarters and their establishments, studied every file of their members. They were to search and interrogate what they’ve been up to these past few weeks. Search for the threat they were hiding and destroy it.

 

If you were given a chance to unravel the truth, would you turn it down? You wouldn’t.

 

 

Even if it meant straying off the path of the righteous.

 

Because you believe once you got hold of the truth, every mistake you’ve done will be compensated by the overwhelming weight of your discovery, of your justice. It would all be forgotten because you got what truly matters. It was what Beca thought of, too.

 

“People get hurt here, Beca. We’re not given weapons just to display them.” Chloe had said one night while they were spending their midnight in front of the mansion’s fireplace. “Death is very common.”

 

Beca, who sat on the carpeted floor, glanced up to the ginger on the couch which she was leaning her back on. “You know how I feel about that.” She stared into the crackling fire. November was ending fast. “That the total amount of fucks I give to getting hurt or dying is zero.”

 

Stacie crossed her legs as she sat on another couch, on the fireplace’s left. “Easy to say right now. Dying has never been easy.” She stared at Aubrey who was sitting on the couch opposite her who stared back as cold.

 

“You’re the Princess, you have the warrior genes in you.” Beca had said.

 

“Being a descendant of the original bloodline doesn’t make me immune to gun shots. I’m just lucky certain people were there to help me get back up.” Stacie got up and stretched. “I’m going to sleep. I need my beauty rest. I haven’t been very presentable these past few weeks. We have a long day tomorrow.”

 

Aubrey stood up not long after and headed to the opposite direction. “I’m sleepy. Gotta hit the sheets.”

 

Like one of those genuine moments, Chloe and Beca stared into the fireplace silently, thoughts running in their minds.

 

“You know I haven’t…um… thanked you properly.” Beca muttered, clearing her throat.

 

“For what?”

 

“For everything you’ve done for me.” The brunette stood up and took a deep breath before facing the ginger. As the next sentences poured out of her mouth, her eyes were on Chloe’s baby blue orbs. “So thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have auditioned for the Bellas. Back in our house when my dad died, I knew you were the one who held me. I… would have lost it if not for you.” Her throat was slowly sucking in sawdust. Beca was never the affectionate one. “I knew that even if I join this g—Valery, I feel secure… because I… because you are a member too. And you take care of each other well.” She nervously glanced at her boots. “Thank you for not giving up on me… for believing that I could do the things that were required of me… Because ever since my dad died, you’re the… um… I didn’t know what to do."

 

"I was scared, but not anymore… You know, I think we could take on Valor any day now.”

 

Chloe was just staring back at her, smiling, her face mellowed by the fire’s reflection.

 

“Please say something.” Beca took a deep breath, looking away, trying her best to hide the flush on her cheeks.

 

The ginger held her hands carefully, and like what she did during the aca-initiation night, she suddenly pulled Beca close. The brunette, instinctively, held back again, their faces ending up a few centimeters away from each other, the tips of their noses touching. Beca stared wide at the beauty that was in front of her. She felt her hot breath tickle her lips.

 

“You’re welcome.” Chloe closed the distance between their lips with hers.

 

Beca knew deep inside she had it coming. There were butterflies in her stomach. She found herself kissing the ginger back. It was soft and sweet and giddy.

 

And for the first time since her dad died, something felt absolutely right.

 

 


	10. Stan

“His name is Stanley Gordon or Stan as he’s mostly known. You may be familiar with him. He works in the grill as a bartender. Grew up in Russia. 6”2. 81 kg. Has been in Valor for three years now. Night shift, nine to eleven on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.” Stacie handed photos of him to the ten girls around her.

 

Beca looked at the picture. She remembered ordering two cases of hard liquor for the members of Valery during her initiation period. Stan was around in his mid-20s, tall and dark-haired. His big physique and hard accent was hard to forget.

 

“What you’re going to do is fairly easy.” Eloise was sitting on the mahogany dining table, her legs crossed. “Normally, it would only take four persons to kidnap someone but since there’s a 90-99% probability that he is armed, you all need to work with each other. There will be decoys, the lookouts, the getaways and the emergency muscle. We need him as soon as possible.” She turned to her daughter. “And what day is it today, honey?”

 

“Saturday.” said Stacie after glancing at the wall calendar.

 

“Good. You have a whole day tomorrow to perfect your plan.” Eloise got down from the table. “I need to check on the criminal records for the past months. Oh gods, I’ve been missing so much. I’ve got an entire town to look out for, a twat of testosterone lumps and I still have to worry about the Royal Ball! Stacie dear, come with me. You’ve been on vacation long enough.”

 

Stacie took a deep breath before catching up to her mother who half-ran in her heels.

 

The ten girls looked at each other, exchanging hopeful glances.

 

“And that is why I’m thankful that I’m not an heir.” Margery Dale shrugged. Her cheeks were bland as if no blood pumped underneath them, her dark brown eyes bulged slightly underneath her thin eyelashes and her lips were chapped as dry earth. Nevertheless, with the absence of life in her features, her chestnut wavy locks flowed curled around her broad shoulders as if every life in her was absorbed by her luscious hair instead. 

 

“I think I could handle the pressure though.” said Julia Quintell. She leaned her tall slim frame against the wall. Her slender fingers tucked strands of her back-length hair behind her ears, her bright nose crinkling. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to have the leadership passed to you some day?” 

 

“Oh yes, yes, indeed.” Alice Vanderbilt squealed. She had her bob cut hair pinned with a blue ribbon; a hairstyle that she maintained ever since they lost last year’s ICCA’s. Most knew her as last year’s Barden Bellas head. “So we mustn’t fail the Queen and the Princess.”

 

Chloe turned to Beca and rolled her eyes. “Now I know what Stacie’s been talking about when she said leeches.” The brunette had a mischievous grin on her face.

 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Alice turned to the pair with dark wary eyes.

 

“I didn’t say anything.” Chloe shrugged.

 

“Why are you sniggering green leaf?” 

 

Beca cleared her throat. “I just remembered something funny, no big deal.”

 

“This, your first assignment, is a big deal.” Alice crossed her arms over her chest. “Just because you’re in the Princess’s entourage doesn’t make you superior than any of us. We’ve been here ages before you even thought of joining.”

 

“Okay, seriously? We didn’t do anything.” Beca retorted.

 

“You reacted for Eloise’s sake! Isn’t that s—”

 

“Shut it.” Debora Williams growled. She was standing next to the tall Julia, even towering her with her bigger built. Of all the girls in Valery, Beca noted to herself to keep distance from the giant. Her eyes were large and blue, her features rough and course. Freckles sprinkled her cheeks down to her tan neck. Her short-cropped black hair was oily and unkempt, her voice deep and husky. “Alice, you’re overreacting. We should be planning our moves right now.”

 

“I agree, I agree.” a young girl, almost unnoticeable, was sitting on one of the chairs around the dining table, in front of Debora. At 15, Sara McKenna was the youngest in Valery. She had joined the organization a year before Chloe since there wasn’t any rule that states you have to be of legal age to join. She was twirling a stainless steel kitchen knife between her little fingers. “Someone’s gonna get hurt if we fail kidnapping—or should I say adultnapping— this Uncle Stan guy. You don’t want to see Princess Stacie get angry again.” 

 

Beca shot Chloe a sideway glance to which the ginger muttered. “Later,”

 

“The Princess is a force to be reckoned with.” said Julia with her refined accent. 

 

The pale blonde one, who was seated opposite Sara, leaned back against the mahogany chair and pushed her thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of her freckled nose. Amber Doolittle. “We all know how this goes. Except for Beca, we’ve played our parts for quite some time now. Kelly, Alice and I will be the lookouts, patrolling outside the grill. Julia will be the decoy or the distraction—or both because, well, she’s drop-dead gorgeous. Grace will be with getaway car one and Margery will be with getaway car two in case we can’t use car one.” She looked up at the giant and the little kid. 

 

“Deborah and Sara will be the emergency muscle and will also be on the lookout. Together with them will be Chloe and Beca, lookouts inside the grill in case there will be Valor members or if additional decoy is needed.”

 

Beca glanced at the members as their names were mentioned. Little girl Sara as the other of the emergency muscle team? The party-people Kelly Madison was pouring herself some vodka from the Conrad’s state-of-the-art fridge. She raised her shot-glass when her name was mentioned. Russet-haired Grace Phillips quietly sat beside Amber, her thick-lashed eyes studying the patterns on the marble counter nearby.

 

Beca couldn’t help but frown at the resemblance the ten people in the room have—nothing. It was almost like the Barden Bellas all over again; a band of misfits that surprisingly made quite a good blend. She wanted to see them again. Amy, Lily, Cynthia Rose, Jessica, Ashley, Denise…

 

“I suppose we should explain our duties step by step for Beca.” said Margery, pulling out a chair for herself.

 

“I think she’ll do a good job. As a look-out, I mean.” Alice sneered at the brunette from the other side of the table. “After all, what could you possibly do to mess up just being t—”

 

A loud ‘thump’ came from the wall. Immediate silence dawned upon them. Beca whipped her head to the wall where a blue ribbon was pinned by a stainless steel knife. The rest of the girls turned a second after.

 

“Aunt Debora already said shut it. I’m out of words to use on you.” Sara smiled, her small cheeks flushed with excitement. “Please don’t get me annoyed again, Aunt Alice.” 

 

Beca shuddered. Little girl Sara as the other half of the emergency muscle team was definitely a yes.

 

“Um, Sara,” Julia pulled the knife out from the wall, throwing the blue ribbon back to Alice. “You just wounded the wall.” 

 

But the girl was enjoying herself. “Oops,”

 

 

The winter started early that year. The winds were cold and the sun barely showed up. The night was even colder. Townspeople went to either the grill or the disco house on the next block to pump life in their lethargic veins.

 

Beca sat opposite Chloe, sipping her hot cappuccino. They were seated at the corner, the spot nearest the bar counter. The Grill never changed even through the years. The walls and the floor were still the same dark planks of wood, the chairs still a metallic black, the ceiling still decorated with fans. The wide poster on the side had been “Bless Georgia with the Messiahs of Barden” ever since Beca was born.

 

She glanced to the bar where Stan was mixing some drinks for the customers, a confident smile on his face. Julia was one of the people sitting on the opposite side. Her eyes were half-open as she told her woes to a young man who sat beside her.

 

On the other side of the grill, Debora and Sara were playing foosball like unlikely sisters, laughing and teasing each other. Before Beca and Chloe went inside, the getaway cars were ready and Kelly, Alice and Amber had made their way to the establishment through the backdoor. 

 

Beca glanced at her silver watch. 22:45. 

 

“Don’t you think it’s time to share some of your adventures?”

 

Chloe propped her chin on her elbow. “Which one?”

 

“The one where Stacie got angry. The others seemed frightened.”

 

“Oh, you would be too if you were there with us. Last spring break was one of the times when I truly feared for my life. I’m stressing the fact that I was the greenest leaf when Valor broke in one of our establishments near the university and tore the place. We were happily partying with the Queen, for the record. And trust me, Eloise might look very motherly and kind to you—actually she is, most of the time, but you wouldn’t want to get on her bad side. Never. I’d rather have a hundred outraged Stacies than one angry Eloise.”

 

“Let me guess, Valor got to Eloise?”

 

Chloe tucked a strand of her ginger hair behind her ear and glanced sideways, keeping close track of what was currently happening. Seeing that Stan was preoccupied by Julia who was now blabbering to him about her miserable love life, she turned back to Beca. “They got to Aubrey.”

 

Beca leaned back, one eyebrow raised. “What do they have, really? Stacie and Aubrey?”

 

“Well, what do we have, Beca?” Chloe responded with a well-placed smile. When the brunette sniggered, she shrugged, reaching for her hand and holding it from across the table. 

 

“Hmm, I wonder what is it that we have, Chloe.” Beca played with the ginger’s fingers. She was smirking. “I’m in deep thought.”

 

The ginger chuckled. “They may claw at each other’s throats sometimes—a lot of times, actually, but  
they make sure the other one’s fine by the end of the day.”

 

“So how did Aubrey get involved in all of this?”

 

“Just like what Stacie said, every generation, all organizations, let an outsider be informed of the activities of the group. Most of the time that would be the mayor or someone from the town’s council to secure the group’s hold on the place.” Chloe sipped her coffee before continuing. “Since we can’t do that because of Valor’s competition, the previous royalties just picked a close friend or confidante just for the sake of keeping up with the tradition.”

 

Beca took notice of Debora and Sara going out through the front door. “But why did Stacie choose Aubrey?”

 

Chloe shrugged. “It was Stacie’s turn to choose someone for her generation of ruling, and when I got in the group, she asked for Aubrey right away. Maybe she got bored of setting up standards and just picked the easiest choice—just like what the previous generations of royalties did. Not that I don’t like it, I’m actually thankful that I don’t have to lie to my best friend but Aubrey has been offered a lot of times to be Stacie’s right hand when she takes the throne from her mother.”

 

“But Aubrey wanted to live up to the role of being that moral one and refused to become one of us.”

 

“No one questions her integrity. She may not like being involved in all of this but she doesn’t run away from it either.” Chloe turned to the door and glared. Her eyes flicked to Beca who was looking in the same direction a moment before she did. She then turned to Stan over the counter who wasn’t paying attention to Julia anymore. “Why are they here in the middle of the night?”

 

Beca glanced at her wristwatch. 23:18. Stan’s shift was about to end. She squeezed Chloe’s hand, and got up before the ginger could protest.

 

“Jesse?” The brunette called, her face unbelieving. “You’re here!”

 

Jesse Swanson stopped in his tracks before she could take another step. “What?”

 

“We’re here like magic.” Benji Applebaum had smiled. “Hey Beca, how’s Valery doing?”

 

Beca almost choked on her breathing. The last time she saw Benji, he was doing magic tricks in the cafeteria, seemingly naïve of the town’s secrets. “Since when did you become a—”

 

“He’s not.” Jesse clenched his jaw and walked past Beca. He looked around, saw through the lot of people crowding the grill for midnight snack. Stan was waving at him from behind the counter. “Only three of you here?”

 

“We just came for some snacks, that’s all.” She caught up to him before he made it halfway to the counter. “Hey—What do you mean? You didn’t get my message?”

 

“What message?”

 

“Of us talking privately. Here.” Beca’s hands were on her hips. “Seriously? Why are you even here anyway?”

 

Jesse stopped for a moment to recall his thoughts. He studied the brunette’s face. After a couple of seconds, his face relaxed. “Oh that… I was… Nevermind. What do you want to talk about?”

 

Benji had spun on his heel, walking to the counter. “I’ll be taking my leave then.”

 

“We haven’t talked for months, Jesse. I’m sorry if you felt shut out. I had to go through changes.” 

 

Her eyes lingered on his exposed arm. It looked like the one on her back, only that the inscriptions around the letter V and its tail were longer than hers.

 

“Changes which shouldn’t have happened.”

 

“There are things that can’t be undone, Jesse. We’ve both made our choices. Let us live our lives as we want it.” She led him to one of the isolated tables on the opposite corner from Chloe’s table. 

 

“Do you want something to drink?”

 

“No thanks, I’m good. But you should know, Stan’s a great bartender...” He turned to the counter and in Stan’s place was a lean lanky high school part-timer, conversing with Benji. 

 

The long dark-haired Valery girl near the counter was nowhere to be seen. Chloe Beale, who he had seen just right after he got inside, was gone too. He turned to Beca who had just dashed out of the door and he swore he saw her grinning when she ran.

 

\--

 

“We’ve been doing this for the last six hours, but if you’re feeling kind, you can speak up and let us sleep.” Stacie crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

A loud agonizing scream tore through the next seconds. Margery pulled the leather whip, forcefully tearing the spikes of Stan’s broad back without blinking. 

 

“I swore to the brotherhood.” He gritted his teeth, his voice was deep and his Rs were with hard tongue rolls. His left eye was half-open, his right eye numb from all the bruises. Chains locked his wrists and ankles wide apart. All he wore were his bartending slacks, stained by blood. “I swore an oath of secrecy.”

 

“Oh, we’re night people, just to let you know.” said Stacie. She walked up to him and traced his jawline with her fingers. The chains clanged from his struggle. “If I were you, I’d forget about the oath for a moment and tell us what Valor is up to. Then we’ll let you go and won’t speak of your betrayal… provided you won’t fess up to your dear brothers.”

 

Stan glared at her with his half-open left eye, and with all his severity against Valery, he spat on her face. “Go to hell.”

 

A loud whack tore his back once again. The small spikes stuck to his skin, taking pieces of them as they were retracted. 

 

Stacie wiped her cheek with the handkerchief Alice gave her before discarding it on the floor. She held Stan’s jaw with one hand. “When we’re done with you, I will make sure every limb you have will be ripped out by wolves.”

 

Beca, who stood a few meters away from the center of the training-slash-torture room, suddenly remembered the Bellas initiation night and realized how Stacie spoke in the same pattern as Aubrey. It made her wonder whether the things Aubrey told them were results of Stacie and Valery’s influence on her. 

 

“You okay?” asked Chloe who stood by her side. 

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She grinned, her eyes never leaving Stan. “I may have been a real dick these past months but I’m now back to being me. I was just shaken up by my dad’s death, that’s all.”

 

The ginger chuckled. “Whoa there, I didn’t say anything about you being a marshmallow.”

 

Beca smirked, rolling her eyes. “Neither did I.”

 

“Let me ask you again, Stan,” Stacie’s loud voice resonated against the bloody, dirty walls. She gave Margery a glance and the girl whipped him again. When the shouting had ceased, she continued. “Based on our timetable, Jude should have come home already. Why did he pull his son out of school? What are they up to?”

 

After a few seconds of silence, Margery whipped him again.

 

“I also suggest you speak up because at this rate, you’re not gonna make it through the night.” said Stacie.

 

Aubrey stood beside Beca, her eyebrows furrowed. “This bitch,”

 

“You mean your bitch?” Beca grinned. 

 

Aubrey shot Chloe a glare. “This is what she learns after spending too much time with you.”

 

“She’s always been the tough cookie. Why me? I’m a good influence to her.”

 

“Yeah.” Beca smiled convincingly. “Chloe is the best influence I can ever have.”

 

Aubrey glanced at the other nine girls, eight whom she fought alongside with last spring break. They avoided her gaze. “Tell me, is there anything good in this torture room?”

 

“Spectators, please minimize your noise. We’re not here to chit-chat.” Stacie turned to them, sighing. “Posen, don’t you have an a cappella group to run?” 

 

“I get it. You don’t want me here.” Aubrey took a deep breath and stormed out of the room, her footsteps heavy. 

 

“What’s with her?” 

 

They all shrugged.

 

Stacie sighed. “If you’re not going to talk in front of me, perhaps you’ll talk in front of my mother.” 

 

She turned back to the eight girls inside the room. “Form groups of three and take shifts watching over this bastard. Mom should be awake by now. She’ll decide what to do with him. Call me when he decides to speak up.” She turned to Chloe and Beca with her familiar smile. “Why don’t we pay Barden a visit?”

 

Beca raised her eyebrow. “Aren’t you sleepy at all? We’ve been up for almost a straight day.”

 

“Nope. I slept while you got the bartender.” She winked. “Are you coming or not? Posen’s meeting the Bellas today. We’ll catch up to her.”

 

Beca followed her to the door, rubbing her eyes. She turned to Chloe beside her. “You going?”

 

The ginger yawned. “I don’t want to sleep this one out. Come on.”

 

“Good.” Stacie smiled. She nodded at the lady behind the training room counter when she bowed low. “I miss my sensual sex-addict identity though. Time to take it for another spin.” She was chuckling when they reached the door. “I remember Posen’s words; sadistically sensual Princess.”

 

Beca turned to Chloe and rolled her eyes before they both chuckled, the agonizing scream of the bartender echoing in their ears. 

 

Going to Barden University and seeing all their old friends may be the kind of break they both needed from their stressful lives.

 

\--

 

Or it may be not. 

 

As soon as the tall buildings of the institution met her eyes, the past four months flashed back in Beca’s mind like a haunted nightmare; the low expectations she had at the start of the school year, the time when Jesse sang to her while he was in a cab, her unforgettable roommate Kimmy Jin, her first part-time job as a CD-stacker in Luke’s radio station, her sexually frustrating Titanium duet with Chloe in the shower, singing in a cappella, the Barden Bellas, the Treblemakers, her father’s death—every memory of every person the school brought her came back in her mind. It wasn’t all that bad but it was very nostalgic that it sickened her. Not only was she coincidentally wearing her dark gray jacket, her red shirt underneath, her dark gray pants and multi-purpose boots but Chloe was also wearing her fuchsia tank top and Stacie with her low-collar white top, dark blue slim jeans and high heels—the same dress they wore when she first saw them.

 

Beca took a deep breath, one with hopes of taking the painful memories away. “Talk about déjà vu.”

 

“Come on, it’s not so bad.” Chloe had been smiling ever since she stepped on the school grounds. As they walked across the quadrangle, she pointed to one of the spots beside one of the full grown trees. “That’s where the Barden Bellas booth was, last Activity Fair Week. And I swear the SBT guys’ endorsement was overflowing with double negatives.”

 

But Chloe’s excitement wasn’t the reason why heads kept turning in their direction. Students still recognized them. Maybe not Beca, though Chloe was more popular in school, not her too, but it because of Stacie. She was back. Her hips sways, her seductive smirks, her glances to her own cleavage as she led Beca and Chloe to the gym, she was back to the sensual hormone-raging teenager she was famous for.

 

A familiar tune rang in Beca’s ears as they got in discreetly. 

 

_I got a new life, you would hardly recognize me, I’m so glad...  
How could a person like me care for you?_

 

It was like the past four months didn’t happen. Like everyone was already rehearsing the piece, their backs to her, the late-comer, and though she knew Aubrey was going to give her a mouthful the moment she notices her, she wouldn’t give half a damn about it.

 

True enough Aubrey, who was meters away from them stopped, her eyes wide. “Aca-scuse me? What are you doing here?”

 

Before Chloe could come up with an excuse, the rest of the Bellas had stood up, gaping.

 

“The aca-gods have spared us from today’s practice.” Amy rejoiced, her pale blue eyes glued to the three girls who made their way to Aubrey. She was still the same bouncy humor-machine. 

 

“Hey…?” Chloe waved a little, a huge smile on her face. “Oh wow, everyone’s still here.”

 

They hugged each other and tried to keep up with the former Bellas members.

 

“Why’d the three of you leave school?” Cynthia Rose asked Stacie, ogling her at the same time when they sat around in a circle.

 

“Personal matters.” said Stacie, flipping her long wavy hair over her shoulder.

 

“But I suppose you three don’t have the same reasons, do you?” asked Amy, her eyes glancing at the three who sat beside each other suspiciously. 

 

Chloe chuckled. “Of course not, why would we?” 

 

“So, you’re still singing those old songs?” asked Beca. Had she stayed in the a cappella group even after they forfeited the ICCA’s, she knew she wouldn’t last another week. Traditional just wasn’t her style. “Don’t you get tired of them?”

 

“We do….” Amy looked away, her voice minimizing to a low hum.

 

“We have tradition to maintain.” Aubrey cleared her throat, her emerald green eyes wide as she turned to Beca. “The moment you dropped out of school and rid yourself from the responsibilities and commitment also removed your right of voicing out your thoughts on anything that has to do with the Bellas.”

 

“What? I was just asking.” Beca raised her hands submissively. “No need to overreact, sheesh.”

 

Stacie had to stop herself from choking on her own breathing. She turned to Beca and Chloe on her right. “Those are my words. She’s using my words.” Her smile was from ear to ear.

 

“You may have noticed that she got the Bellas’ oath from you.” Beca whispered in her ear.

 

“Really? Wow. I never noticed. I did not know that I have that effect on her.”

 

Lily raised her hand. Everyone turned to her attentively. Her lips moved but they didn’t make a sound. 

 

Amy sighed. “Still nothing.”

 

“Okay, since we’re here,” Chloe turned to Aubrey expectantly. “Why don’t we sing a few songs?” 

 

Sing they did. Even though it was the same boring old music, Beca felt a huge sense of relief. All the a cappella singing brought back her Titanium duet with Chloe. The ginger had always loved singing and even Beca noticed that even before. And though it was temporary and may not happen again in the near future, the fact that Stacie and Aubrey were singing the same songs and complementing each other’s voices without trying to strangle one another made Beca happy too. Besides, it had been quite a time since she sang with the Barden Bellas. Now, if she could just remix their songs with modern music and a pint of her personal taste…

 

 

“It’s about time,”

 

Beca paced beside Stacie as she talked on the phone. The taller girl kept her eyes on Beca as she nodded. 

 

“What?! Yeah… I know, mom… Uh-huh.. Yes. Aubrey’s here, sheesh… Got it… Sure, see you later.” By the time Stacie had placed her phone back in her pockets Chloe and Aubrey were already beside her. 

 

“Well, what was it about?” asked Beca.

 

“My mother transferred Stan to our house’s basement. Fortunately, he doesn’t like the cold very much. He’s spilling the beans as we talk.” She glanced at the rest of the Bellas who were playing jokes with each other and turned to Aubrey. “I’m afraid practice is over.”

 

“You still need me?” The blonde retorted. “All you gotta do is hear the guy out. You have more than enough pairs of ears to do that.”

 

“I believe this is a matter of great importance to us all. Stan may or may not be lying but just the thought of them having traced the original bloodline drives me nuts.”

 

“Can it be possible?” asked Chloe. 

 

“Wait,” Beca’s interest was piqued. “Is this about…”

 

“Yes.” Stacie sighed. “The bartender spilled that they found them and they’re going after them.”

 

Beca couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something in the royalties’ eyes that told her the real game has started. “When you say _them_ , you don’t mean—”

 

“When I say _them_ , I mean Vancleave.”

 

\--

 

It was the second week of December and as if every place wasn’t cold enough, they went to the underground freezer of the Conrad mansion. The wide box reminded Beca how the scorching iron brand dented her back for life. It also reminded her of how Chloe struggled to fight against her will when she branded her.

 

Beca leaned against the wall, wrapping her jacket tighter around her little body, the back of her mind wondering how she managed to remain conscious during the initiation by just wearing a cloak. She paid no attention to the thick mist of her breathing, the numbing of her fingers or the presence of the Queen. All her interest was on the man whose wrists and ankles were bound on two thick logs of X.

 

“My capture must’ve reached them already. They will come for you… Jude will make sure you’re going to pay for this.” Stan said through ragged breathing. His fingers held no nails and his eye sockets held nothing but pools of blood that dripped down to his sharp cheekbones. “And Vancleave…”

 

Eloise stood in front of him, arms crossed. She scowled at the stainless spoon and the pair of eyeballs lying at her feet. “What about them?”

 

“We already found them. Traced the line. They’ve been behind all this… The entire feud…” He grinned but half of his front teeth were gone, his gums fresh with blood. “Someone in the university. Quite famous for the face…”

 

It wasn’t a surprise that it was from Barden University. But there are thousands of students in the institution alone… In that moment, Beca disregarded the hierarchy of respect and allowed herself to speak without asking for permission because apparently her dad’s murder case was immediately disregarded the moment the name Vancleave became alive again. She wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. “Give us a name, damn it.”

 

Heads turned in her direction. Chloe averted her gaze as fast as she could. Aubrey shook her head. Stacie, who stood behind her mother, shot her a warning look. The other eight girls turned to her, eyes wide. Beca realized her mistake when Eloise had not moved an inch. 

 

“Beca’s right. Give us a name.” Eloise spoke as her eyes roamed over the man’s dislocated shoulder joint. “You might as well prove yourself worthy of the death you’re going to receive.”

 

Stan chuckled before choking, blood tickling down the sides of his mouth. He was like one of Satan’s pawns; eyeless, bloody and broken. “The Royal Ball. They’re going to be there… But Valor has the birthright… He is the first-born. He has the rightful claim to the throne. He is going to destroy you.”

 

His deep takes of breath made messy wisps of mist. Eloise uncrossed her arms and walked away, Stacie trailing behind her. When they passed by Beca, the Queen gave the orders.

 

There was a bloodcurdling glint in her eyes that moment, one filled with either utmost loathe or spiteful revenge or both, one that made even Beca shiver. Eloise was darker, more mysterious and definitely more powerful than Stacie. She wasn’t a Queen for nothing. Beca immediately pulled her pistol, the one she earned after shooting her father’s heads, and shot the poor bartender in the middle of his chest, a simple punishment for her disrespect. 

 

_“Kill him.”_


	11. Vancleave

Beca sat on the plush carpet in front the fireplace, warming herself against the cold. How many days was it until Christmas? “It’s the nineteenth today, so…” She counted with her fingers. “Six days to Christmas.”

 

“Five days to the Royal Ball.” Chloe’s warm breath tickled her ear. The ginger’s arms were around her waist, her legs on both sides of the brunette, her chin resting on the thick shoulder pad of her winter jacket.

 

“I’m not sure which one to look forward to.” Beca sighed. Eloise named her, Chloe, Kelly and Julia as Valery’s entourage in the Royal Ball. Aubrey’s presence, on the other hand, was mandatory.

 

“The ball, of course!” Stacie sat by the couch, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. “Not only you’ll have a once in a lifetime experience, you’ll also get to wear designer gowns. Mom already ordered gowns your size. You’ll get to try them by Friday.”

 

Beca’s face contorted at the word _gowns_.

 

“I can see your scowl from here, Beca.” Chloe said. She hugged the other girl tighter. “Loosen up, it’s just a night. Besides, I don’t get to see you in a dress every day.”

 

The brunette groaned. If there was no possibility that she’d get killed for refusing the Queen, she would have peaceful nights. Her spikes and gothic eyeshade don’t go well with glittering long gowns and classical music. She was not Cinderella and had no intention to be.

 

“Nothing could go wrong with designer clothing, especially gowns.” Julia chimed half-mindedly as she sprawled on a beanbag nearby, the rest of her mind occupied with beating the high score in her phone’s Tetris game.

 

“You’re built like a supermodel. Everything looks good on you.” Kelly commented. She was lying on the carpet, right next to Beca, holding a huge pack of Gummy Bears. She popped one in her mouth. “Stacie is forever on the list. And then of course there’s me. Okay, I was kidding.”

 

“Have you been stealing from the fridge again?” Stacie asked.

 

“What? No. I stopped last week.” Kelly chuckled. “These are rum-flavored Gummy Bears.”

 

“Aww, why didn’t you share?”

 

“You never asked.”

 

“Hey, throw me some.” Julia said, her eyes glued to her phone.

 

Kelly stood up and passed the pack to Stacie. “You want some, go get some, Jules.”

 

Beca was still frowning. Chloe whispered in her ear, rubbing her arm. “I’m not looking forward to Stacie or Kelly or Julia in their gowns. I’m looking forward to seeing you all dressed-up.”

 

“So you can laugh at how awkward I’ll be? Nice try, Chloe. _Really nice_.”

 

“I know you’ll look amazing, Beca.” The ginger rested her chin on the other girl’s shoulder, inhaling her rose-scented shampoo. “You always do.”

 

Beca stared into the fireplace. Her hands covered Chloe’s. “If the ball fails at least we have Christmas to look forward to.” Christmas which she used to spend with her father.

 

“The ball never fails. Especially that the Forsberg are hosting this year, one of the richest organization in the entire country.” Stacie was halfway through the pack of Gummy Bears when Kelly snatched it away from her. “Oh, and speaking of Christmas, Mom asked me to give you your Christmas allowance and your shopping bonus.”

 

Julia tucked her phone in her pockets and bolted up at allowance. Kelly was grinning. Chloe ‘mmm’-ed on Beca’s shoulder. Ever since they lived in the mansion, Eloise provided them with weekly allowances. They could say they’re living in the lap of luxury, though sometimes Beca still wonders how high Stacie’s allowances gets. Give them another month and everyone in the house will be wearing designer clothes.

 

The five of them headed out in the afternoon for Christmas shopping. The mansion needed a makeover. Aubrey was at the door when they got out.

 

“You’re going right now? But I just got home!” The blonde’s green eyes flashed. She had spent the past couple of days with her family. Her brother Peter had a seizure the other day and had to be sent to the hospital. He was discharged about six hours ago. Aubrey and Chloe had been on text message marathons the entire scene.

 

“We still have time before mom and the other six gets back from the warehouse. We’re surprising them.” Stacie grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her with the lot. “You’re stressed. You need to loosen up, let’s go.”

 

 

  
\--

 

 

  
Beca Mitchell wasn’t a fan of shopping. She pushed the cart while everyone filled it in. Chloe pushed the second cart after the first one overflowed. Other than the fifteen-foot silver Christmas tree the Conrads keep at home, the walls and rooms lacked the spirit of Christmas. When they got home, they showered the house with decorations. The Conrad housekeepers Beth and Flo were sent back to their houses for vacation. Before they left, they sprinkled the outside of the mansion and the garden with Christmas lights.

 

Stacie was putting the star on top of the silver Christmas tree when Eloise and the other girls arrived.

 

Kelly plugged the lights in and the Christmas tree sparkled with dancing gold lights. Aubrey got Stacie down from the ladder safely. Julia was hanging green and red socks by the fireplace. Chloe was tacking the walls with letters of ‘Merry Christmas’ on the wall on top of the flat screen TV. Beca was rearranging the furniture to make more space.

 

“Looks like someone got their allowances already.” Eloise caught Stacie in a tight hug.

 

“Is it a bit too much?”

 

“No, honey. It’s perfect.” The older woman looked around, smiling. “I was looking forward to call Beth and Flo to finish the decorations but I guess I don’t need to anymore.”

 

“Wow. The tree’s flashier this year.” Sara’s smile was ear-to-ear.

 

“Aubrey picked the stuff to hang.” Stacie said. The blonde smiled, setting the wooden ladder aside.

 

  
“Julia, do you need help?” Amber approached the tall lady.

 

“You can sort the colors out.” Julia replied.

 

“Too bad we won’t have the Christmas party this year with the rest of the members.” Alice muttered as she handed Kelly the extension cord. “Hide it behind the vase, the less it’s seen, the better…”

 

Kelly did as told. “As much as I’m disappointed with the lack of partying this season, I’m looking forward to the ball. It only happens every five years. It’s an honor to be included in the entourage.”

 

“That sounds a thousand times better than to be stuck underground and do surveillance while you meet the other royalties and have the time of your lives.”

 

“Speaking of that, how are things working out there?”

 

“Perfect.” Alice handed her a set of multi-colored lights. “Around the counter… A little to the left… Yep, there.” She rummaged the nearby box for another set of lights. “Paige and Michelle got the new room up and running before they left. Half of it was wide LED screens. Bottom half’s where all the buttons are. The rest is just like what you see in movies. High-end technology. Amber could fill out the rest of information on that place, though.”

 

“No thanks.” Kelly chuckled. “I got what you said.”

 

  
“What can you say, Miss Dale?” Debora placed her iron fist in front of the pale girl’s lips.

 

“Do you want me to give you a satisfying reaction?” Margery mumbled in monotone.

 

“How Christmas-y do you feel?” The giant’s dark voice was mixed with taunt. “From 0 to 10. 0 being nothing at all and 10 as feeling like it’s the 25th already.”

 

Margery took a deep breath and stared at the blinking lights of the Christmas tree. “Negative one.”

 

 

  
\--

 

 

  
“At what age did you start shooting?” Amber was leaning against the marble counter in the kitchen when Beca came, munching on a carrot.

 

The brunette opened the fridge and got a half-empty bottle of wine. She poured herself a glass. “What?”

 

“You heard me.” The pale blonde narrowed her eyes. She wiped her glasses with her thumb. “Your stance is good. Your grip is a bit wobbly but we can work it out. You don’t recoil as bad as the newbies do. And from what I’ve seen from the CCTV cameras, your first three gunshots are nearly all headshots.”

 

“I’ve never held a gun before.”

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Beca.”

 

Beca shrugged, gulping the wine in one go, eyeing the lady. She was in her late-twenties, at most. It occurred to Beca before, why holding a gun seemed like one of the most normal things to do. Her pistol fit in her hand perfectly. When she killed Stan, she didn’t hesitate. A part of her secretly feared the thought that she actually liked shooting people. “Who wants a dead person staring at you anyway?”

 

“Your reflexes are superb.” The blonde finished her carrot and poured herself a glass of wine. “Eloise even recognizes your potential.”

 

“Apparently, recognizing my potential by letting me take a life doesn’t ring a bell at all. I was rude and I was punished.”

 

“That’s not it, Beca. Our punishment comes in harsh trainings and spending a week at most in the underground freezer.” Amber chuckled. It was like seventh grade all over again, solving mystery cases. “Eloise never asked us to clean up her mess. She always finishes them off. Did you talk privately after what happened?”

 

“No.” Beca raised an eyebrow. “Did we have to?”

 

“See? You weren’t even punished. Don’t you get it, Beca?”

 

“Get what?”

 

“You’re the first green leaf to get invited to join the royalties to the ball. Eloise usually sends the older ones.”

 

Beca got the bottle of wine from her and returned it to the fridge before they finished it off. “Chloe is as new as I am. Kelly and Julia must’ve joined before Chloe.”

 

“Uhh, no.” The lady shook her head. “Paige was the greenest one when Chloe joined but she’s not even here. Chloe is Aubrey’s best friend and where she goes, Aubrey goes too—and I’m pretty sure it was all Stacie’s idea. Meanwhile, Kelly’s as old as Sara and Julia’s older than Sara. They’ve both disgraced our name in the past. Eloise is giving them a chance to atone for what they’ve done by serving her.”

 

Beca paused to think. “Oh. _Oh_.”

 

“Tell me you’ve finally gotten it.” The blonde took a deep breath. “If you continue to please Eloise, you’re going to end up as Stacie’s right hand when she passes the throne.”

 

“But I’m not doing anything.” Or even trying to.

 

“As long as you continue to do her bidding and exceed her expectations by being yourself, you are entertaining her.”

 

“And why am I supposed to believe you?” The brunette was close to shrugging her campaign. Stacie’s right hand? Hell to the no. She joined Valery to give justice to her father’s death and for Chloe, not to protect the royal brat for the rest of her life.

 

“Have you forgotten the research you did on the members during your initiation?” The blonde removed her thick rimmed glasses and for the first time, Beca saw the faint trace of age lines at the corner of her eyes. “I’ve been in this organization for fifteen years. I’ve seen people come and go.”

 

 

\--

 

 

The days flew faster the more Beca tried not to think about it. She found herself sitting in a first-class flight to LA one day, checking in a three-star hotel a few hours later and before she knew it, she was sitting in a black limousine, inhaling the mint-scented air freshener. Beca turned to her left, hoping to see a glimpse of their destination through the heavily tinted windows. The bright lights of Beverly Hills faded into tall post lamps, the starless night sky giving the throne to the crescent moon. The Royal Ball was a few minutes away, a fairytale for the most prominent families in the entire continental U.S. Right hand-to-be or not, Beca would not have wanted any of the lavishness. 

 

  
“Oh my g— Oh my _aca-god_.” Aubrey’s voice almost made her jump. The blonde was craning her neck to the bright lights not far away. “Chloe, are you seeing what I’m seeing?!”

 

“Yes. I’m not blind Aubrey.” The ginger giggled. “This has got to be a dream.”

 

“If this is, I wouldn’t want to wake up.” Kelly cooed.

 

“Haven’t you seen simultaneously lighted lamp posts before?” Beca rolled her eyes.

 

The limousine slowed down to lazy procession. The brunette took notice of the tall pine trees and bright line of lamps lighting up the asphalt but when she turned to the other side of the window, her jaw literally dropped.

 

“Stacie, why didn’t you tell us that we’re going to Chateau de Beverly Hills?!”Aubrey’s voice went through the brunette’s ear and went out to the other side.

 

Huge arched Palladian gates introduced them to the god-knows-how-many square feet the landscape boasted. The hundred marble lamp posts shone on the wide manicured lawn. The tennis court glowed from afar, a warmly lit Olympic sized pool on its opposite side. Between the court and the pool was something that looked like a smaller version of the White House. Four Corinthian marble columns decorated the lavish marble-floored porch; two tall pines decorating both sides and a three-tiered fountain in front of it added grandeur to the already staggering architecture. Tall men in black suits and shiny shoes guarded the establishment.

 

Beca’s heart thumped as she stepped out of the limo. She was in a mix of awe and disbelief as she stood beside Chloe and Kelly, waiting. On the opposite of the car’s door stood Julia, Aubrey and Stacie, who was a step forward. Eloise stepped out, one black gloved hand holding onto an escort and heads turned. Right past through the tall arched open glass-doors, glittered gowns sprinkled with diamonds, designer tuxedos and elegant faces turned to the Queen who arrived just in time.

 

“Relax, they won’t eat you.” Chloe whispered in Beca’s ear as they trailed behind the royalties.

 

What else could happen? The brunette was wearing a goddamn dress! And it wasn’t just any kind of dress; it was strapless flesh pastel colored long gown that trailed behind her as she walked. Her hair was beautifully twirled in a messy bun, a long silver pin holding it in place, the brand on her back visible through her thin dress. As her less-gothic-but-definitely-more-smoky eyes turned to her, Chloe felt the need to catch her breath.

 

“They can’t kill me with their eyes.” The brunette gestured to the guests, her eyes slowly absorbing the lavish limelight. A streak of silver caught her eyes and she saw a pointed dagger strapped on a girl’s thigh who wore a ruby dress. Not far away were two middle-aged men in black tuxedos. One of them placed a hand on his hip and Beca didn’t miss the shiny black pistol tucked in the hem of his slacks. Yep. Everyone’s definitely armed. She shifted her weight to her other foot, the strap of her pistol grazing against her thigh. Including her. “I’m thankful mama bear didn’t let us waltz in a trap.”

 

The huge rectangular hall was polished in smooth granite tiles, the immaculate walls bearing a mix of Greek and Roman embossment. The air that wafted around was a mixture of lavender, chocolate, lilac, everything sweet and designer perfumes. Lining up every side were long glass tables and empty seats with at least a thirty of waiters in black tuxedo. Half of them were walking around, serving top-of-the-notch champagne.

 

The royal families were busy chatting, laughing, and boasting of their own prowess in their own state. Fifty families were accompanied with six non-royalties at most, five escorts and a confidante of the current generation; the mansion was enormous to hold the number. Branded letters protruded from everyone’s skin, bearing the name of their organization. Beca kept huddled close to her little pack with Chloe and Aubrey, walking a good distance behind Stacie who talked to everyone as if they were the relatives she hadn’t seen in a decade. Eloise kept Julia and Kelly trailing behind her as she moved to the other side of the hall. Beca kept close watch; glaring back at the escorts of whomever Stacie talked to, intimidating them. Every pack of escort was like a gang they had to prove their authority to. When you’re in a room with the most important people in the country, respect is the first thing that should be introduced. Beca kept note that someone from Barden might show up—Stan’s last words. She glanced around once in a while, keeping her eyes open for her mother. If Virginia was like Aubrey, she’s must certainly be in the same room.

 

“Haven’t resolved everything yet, have we Stacie? I’m keeping close watch on your match with Bumper.” A tall olive-skinned lady in a long emerald gown greeted Stacie with an air kiss on the cheek. Just below her collarbone was a branded script of the letters Mk. The escorts behind her were tall older women who looked like they just retired from being Victoria’s Secret Angels, both bearing the same brands under their collarbones.

 

“We have yet to win, Jaden.” Stacie smiled wide. “Don’t worry, I won’t forget to recognize Merrick. After all, birds of the same feather are the same birds.”

 

“Oh yes, indeed. I just couldn’t imagine an entire state being controlled by insensitive jerks. Have you heard, Grimaldi’s brought their new baby with them. Can’t tell if he’s twelve or thirteen but I think I saw him a while ago. He looks like a cute little cherub! Plus, there will be a new King for Sinclair next year!”

 

“I’ve heard of it but I haven’t seen him. So how’s your brother’s little love story with the Marfori girl?”

 

“Ugh, typical drama. Marfori’s demanding half of our riches for their daughter Mylla.” Jaden rolled her eyes. “Both mom and dad refused, of course. A last name for half our worth? Hell no. I don’t even know what my brother saw in that chubby girl—Heavens, is that Denver?”

 

Stacie’s eyes widened at the approaching pack, not in surprise but in awe. “Oh my god, look at how hot you are! Adolescence served you well!”

 

A dark-haired guy in shining white tuxedo and red bow tie bowed in courtesy. He smiled, showcasing his perfect teeth. A thick ‘M’ protruded at the back of his hand. The escorts behind him turned warily at the two other packs of escorts. “It’s been five years, my ladies.” He kissed each of the princesses’ hands, his deep blue eyes lost in passion.

 

“It has always been five years, dope.” Stacie chuckled. “One of the few families who kept their last name to this day—Denver Montgomery.”

 

Beca could’ve bored herself with the royal gossiping but she had other things in mind. While she was on the lookout for Valor, her mother and a face from Barden, Chloe stood beside her, lips sealed. Beca wondered what she was thinking too. Aubrey, who stood nearest Stacie, kept her lips pursed, her face as hard as stone.  


 

The hall was momentarily quieted with the arrival of Valor. Everyone’s heads turned. Beca swore she heard Stacie curse under her breath. Valor was lead by Bumper and an older man who looked like a meaner-bearded version of him. They marched inside, Donald, Unicycle, Jesse, Benji and a man trailing behind them. Bumper’s father was greeted by an older lady and everyone went back to their business. Stacie steered clear of Bumper’s route, as well as his fathers’. They moved like magnets with the same poles, always repelling each other, staying as far away as possible.

 

Chloe’s arm brushed against Beca’s in an attempt to snap her from her thoughts. The brunette slowly glanced to the ginger and found her own pair of eyes staring back at her. Virginia stood at a good distance in a ruby gown, a hefty amount of gold crystals weighing down the edge of the dress at her feet. Beca clenched her jaw, slowly craning to her mother’s direction to take a good look at the people she followed in hopes of knowing the royal family she sided with.

 

“Act normal.” Chloe mumbled and Beca could easily tell that it wasn’t about Virginia. Aubrey’s eyes were wide as plates, her expression as hard as ever.

 

Beca snapped in attention and immediately turned back to Stacie, who was waving at another man. The brunette’s eyes narrowed at the approaching pack. Something was off. Their aura, their authority, their extravagance.

 

A blonde hunk approached with his gang of escorts. His every stride radiated with confidence, his electric blue eyes freezing Beca on the spot. He had a kind smile, which was confusing, because at some point in time, he looked like someone she knew. She searched for a brand on his skin but found nothing visible.

 

“It’s about time you showed up, mister.” said Stacie.

 

“You know, sometimes I need to remind myself that I have a family of my own here.” He gave Stacie a light hug, one that transcended all the light touching every royalty showed. He beamed at the girls behind her. “Hey Beca.”

 

His distinct foreign accent was not to be missed. Beca felt a lump materialize in her throat. She blinked, almost choking on her words. “L-Luke. Hi.”

 

“It was really sad when you dropped out. With Jesse and you gone, I had to take care of the radio station by myself. And Cole, my secretary.” Luke chimed candidly before turning back to Stacie, a smile on his face. “I hope everything fits to your taste. Everyone’s fond of overdoing stuff these days.”

 

Beca knew it was rude for her caliber to stare at a royalty—she had been keeping her gaze to the escorts for the longest time, but she couldn’t help it. Barden’s senior deejay, Luke, was in the royal ball. And as far as Beca’s concerned, Luke being the Vancleave Stan talked about had an eighty-twenty success rate; unless she sees someone else from Barden who was not in Valery or Valor. Her eyes felt watery, her heart hammering the in the familiar rhythm she hated. Was that it? Valery and Valor were after Luke and his family’s throne. They were born to bow before him? Does this also mean that Stacie knew already that Luke was in Vancleave? The unresolved case of Dr. Mitchell’s murder screamed at the back of Beca’s mind. What now?

 

“Beca,” The brunette was about to ask Luke on what he knew about her father’s death but she bit her tongue instead. A flood of warmth covered her hand. Chloe held it firmly, reeling her thoughts back to reality once more.

 

A middle-aged couple was standing on top of the flight of the grand staircase with a teenage girl, quieting everyone with their presence. The man stood in his clean white tuxedo and slim black tie, the lady beside her wore a silver gown ornamented in gold, the little girl in a silver cocktail dress, their golden blonde hair shimmering with life. The noise died down and everyone was hushed, their attention all to the trio looking down on them.

 

“Some say we all came from one family, some say we’re born to rule differently.” The man spoke aloud, his voice booming with command. “Our families are concealed underground but we live above everyone else. Power and glory is something we all want. Though of course, a little pinch of money won’t hurt.” The crowd chuckled. “We strive for excellence and recognition, honor and dignity, respect and power. The tradition of our ancestors will be carried to the next hundred years.”

 

The lady beside him smiled with her deep red lips. “It is our honor to host this year’s ball. I assure you this will be one of the most memorable nights of your lives.” She leaned to the crowd, her eyes searching. “But of course, Forsberg is not complete without our first-born.”

 

Heads turned and steadied to Luke, who had a smug grin on his face. He immediately climbed the stairs in long strides. In a matter of seconds, he was standing with his family, completing the perfect picture of the golden haired.

 

Beca’s eyebrows furrowed, her mind trying to sort out the appropriate feelings. She wasn’t sure whether she’d feel relieved or frustrated at the fact that Luke was a Forsberg, not a Vancleave.

 

“Mother, if you may, I have an announcement to make.” Luke spoke aloud. By the way his mother nodded, Beca could easily tell it was a rehearsed line just like everything else they said.

 

“This night won’t be memorable if not for one thing.” Luke started. Everyone whispered to one another in hushed tones. “It has been a hundred years since their time. They swore to protect a state, rule their people and keep them safe. They have sworn an oath as old as ours. They were once the most feared organization, a family that sent others into scurrying. Their roots bore not one seeds but two, and everyone feared them more. What is better than having not only one heir but two who pledged themselves to protect their realm to their death?”

 

“Here it is,” Chloe cooed, keeping track of every word. Beca had frozen beside her. Aubrey looked as emotionless as ever. Stacie, on the other hand, was smiling from ear to ear in anticipation. By now, everyone had figured out that Forsberg’s heir was talking about the long lost bloodline.

 

Luke continued after the whispering died down. “Old stories say the twins pretended to fight for everyone’s amusement. One day their fake fighting included personal insults. It tore them apart. It tore the family apart. The twins made families of their own, branching out from their roots. The original family could not pick one and if even if they would, one would not agree to bow down to their authority. Their fighting continued and still continues to this day as Valery and Valor from the city of Barden.”

 

“We waited for the feud to die down.” Luke continued and Beca’s frustration grew. He was so close yet so far. He knew a lot of things. She was just too naïve to even consider that he was a part of this and knew anything. “But the day of waiting is over. The original family is once again declaring themselves their rightful claim to the throne. We stand up when we fall and they will surely rise as high as they can. Would they side on one twin or rule over them as they have once, they have our entire support. On this day, December 24th of the year 2013, we, Forsberg, twenty-third of our generation, present you, with honor, the royal family of Vancleave!”

 

Glittering diamonds and sparkling crystals turned in all directions. Heads craned, searching for the renowned family. Some waited for a group of people to come from top of the stairs just like the Forsberg, some kept a good eye, trying to decipher the new faces. From a five year gap of royal balls, new faces were common. The crowd whispered louder when they walked towards the grand staircase, the sea of royalties and escorts parting to give way.

 

Stacie shrugged, taking a deep breath. Aubrey had her arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head. Chloe’s eyes were fixed not on the persons who stepped up but on Beca, whose face had turned violet.

 

A man with Dr. Mitchell’s face made his way to the flight of stairs. He had the same kind eyes and the same cropped hair, but his face was clean shaved, unlike Beca’s father—her memory flying back to the man who gave his father a short eulogy. His arm was linked with a pale one. Virginia Mitchell slowly climbed the stairs with him, lifting her gown with her other hand. They stood there for a moment, bathing in the eyes of the crowd, absorbing their shock.

 

It didn’t take her a full second to connect the dots in front of her eyes. Stan was talking about Joseph Mitchell when he said someone famous from Barden. Jonathan and Joseph weren’t twins but they looked alike and Jonathan had been famous all year round for his death. Joseph and Virginia looked at Beca, waited for her, the crowd following their trail of thoughts. Everyone’s eyes were on her, some ushering her to climb the stairs. Though she couldn’t exactly tell whether they were amused or displeased, Beca felt the pressure all the same.

 

_Joseph, her uncle, was a Vancleave. Virginia, her mother, was a Vancleave. Jonathan, her father, was surely a Vancleave._

 

It all made sense. Her fast reflexes, her uncanny instincts, her hidden strong emotional attachment to the people around her. She came with the package. She wasn’t born to be someone else’s right hand but rather to lead her own. Her blood was as powerful as Stacie, Eloise, Bumper and Luke’s—as powerful as every royalty in the same room. Chloe’s hand slipped from her grip and she found herself walking the path the crowd made for her.

 

_Beca was a Vancleave._


	12. Reassurance

“With the tragic passing of my older brother Jonathan, son of Clive Mitchell and Irina Vancleave, I, Jonathan Vancleave-Mitchell will take over the responsibilities of running the organization…” Joseph addressed the crowd in intelligent sentences. After some paragraphs about his journey with his brother to get the organization back in the track, with Virginia’s help, everyone was already looking forward to his new adventure in bringing back the peace Georgia once had in their rule.

 

While Virginia stood beside her, a well-placed smile on her face, Beca could care less about the sea of people gawking at her. She knew she was being judged simply for how she looked and how she appealed to them. Her eyes wandered, looking at one random pair of eyes after the other, be it escort or royalty, her expression tight. She may be one of the newest ones around but she was of royal blood. She felt powerful. Not only was she, technically, one of the original bloodline but she was also above Valery and Valor. Above Stacie and Bumper. Above Eloise in a certain degree. Above anyone else who ordered her around.

 

She merely nodded at the crowd when Joseph addressed her as the next in-line, the Queen in-waiting. Even the word ‘Princess’ was starting to ring a good note in her ears. Beca followed Joseph and Virginia closely when they stepped down the stairs, the restrained applause of the crowd echoing in her ears. They found a safe spot away from both Valery and Valor and continued to listen to Luke’s father, William, who openly boasted Forsberg’s prowess.

 

“You know how I hate surprises.” Beca muttered in her mother’s ear with distaste, turning her other ear to some royal gossip the Forsberg announced. They introduced Sinclair’s king-to-be.

 

“Merry Christmas. Thanking me would chip of a huge part of your ego, Beca. You’re welcome.” Virginia rolled her eyes with a matching grin. Beca replied with a look of disgust which she countered back as fast. “Yes, I know. I missed you too.”

 

“I hope this isn’t just one of your tricks because you have a lot of explaining to do.”

 

“We have all the time in the world after this. But for the meantime, why don’t we just enjoy the event? Your next ball will happen in your early twenties. We just got happily reunited too, aren’t you happy?”

 

“Yours will be when, in your eighties?” Beca rolled her eyes. “Happy, my ass.” She missed being in her mother’s company but there had always been a fine line between them ever since Virginia left them. For all Beca knew, she left her father for some other jerk’s money (though with the current situation, she’s doubting on it) and the one who made a very inappropriate scene in her father’s funeral. ‘ _Happily reunited_ ’ was not the best line to use.

 

“Mind your words, Beca.” Joseph kept his view ahead, his posture straight. “We do owe you a lot of explanation but for the time being bear in mind that you are not just a member of an organization anymore. You are the sole heiress of Vancleave. Our future success of depends on how well you do when you take over the throne.”

 

“Wow. I wonder what more encouraging words I’ll hear when you do the rest of your explanation. Thank you for the pressure, uncle.” The brunette grimaced. “Is this all legal? I’m a member of Valery. I swore to them. They’re my sisters.”

 

“Sisters? Heck, I bet you just bonded over torturing random criminals. Would you seriously want to go back and bow down to them when you can command them yourself? I don’t think you have an idea how powerful our words are, especially now that Forsberg swore their alliance to us. I could call anyone to do the work, wave my hands and ‘poof’, they’ll be good as dead.” Virginia looked around and beamed when she eyed the statuesque Eloise and Stacie who were busy whispering to one another. She waved, her never-relaxing smile still present on her lips. The mother and daughter from the other side waved back.

 

Joseph turned to Beca jokingly, “If I were you, I’d start thinking about what to do with Valery before your mother decides what do with them.”

 

 

\--

 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Beca Mitchell. I knew you weren’t fit to just stand behind Stacie Conrad. A beauty like yours blooms only within the golden bloodline.” A pair of warm hands took her cold pale ones and brought it to his lips. “I’m Denver Montgomery, the third of my name. We take up residence in Alabama if you still don’t know, my dear neighbor.”

 

Beca fought the urge to pull her hand back from his grasp. She pulled her lips slowly to a polite smile. “Nice meeting you too, Denver.” When her eyes wavered over to his escorts, they all looked down.

 

Virginia led her into another crowd of Princes and Princesses, introducing her by name as if she knew everyone like the back of her hand. Beca smiled uneasily as she paired the faces and the names and with their organizations. Meeting the Kings and Queens was on another scale. Virginia told her they don’t usually interact with people from other places even if they’re of royal blood unless they’re the ones sitting on the thrones.

 

“Gotta make steady connections,” Virginia smiled at her daughter before she flitted to the other side of the room where the rest of the higher bloods were. Three escorts twice her size followed her close.

 

Beca glanced at her own escorts. There were three of them too, two tall guys—twins, and one blonde, in her mid-twenties, who looked like she came out straight from a fitness magazine. She wondered whether they had been silently disguising themselves as students or faculty of Barden and kept tabs on her or whether they were just pulled out of their families and forced them to be members of newly reborn organization.

 

“I go by the name of Jaq. The boys are Alvin and Aldrin.” The blonde spoke in a raspy voice, her pale gray eyes careful as she turned to Beca. The lanky brunette twins nodded at the same time. “We’re not permitted by the Queen to say anything about our background for the time being but I know my way around the crowd.”

 

Though it didn’t ease her suspicions, Beca was relieved to find three more souls that didn’t try to buy her trust with every word. She knew what a simple member felt like, it was as if she was baring her soul to the royalties—catching a bullet for Eloise or Stacie (or both) was the highest honor they could be given.

 

“I really felt I need to have a tourist guide.” Beca mumbled. “It’s like I’m everyone’s shiny new toy.”

 

Jaq bowed in courtesy. “Everyone knows you’re inexperienced, Princ—”

 

“Ugh. Just call me Beca.”

 

“If you wish, Beca. It seems as if everyone is bent on making a mark on you. Vancleave may have been one of the powerful organizations around but we have been gone for a long time. Right now, we’re treated as the newborns. Alliances are needed for an organization to surpass through the tight competition.”

 

Beca saw the figures approaching her from her peripheral vision. Her legs felt like lead from all the standing. Every lady in the room was certainly sharing her dilemma but they looked carefree. Beca decided to sacrifice five years worth of sitting to stand all throughout the occasion. “Do I really need to talk to every royal brat?”

 

“Yes. Making the right connections as early as now would certainly help the organization in its later years. But make the wrong connections and they will drag you down with them when the time comes.”

 

“Please tell me you know who the right people are.”

 

Jaq managed small smile. An alabaster white redhead introduced herself to Beca, who spent the next hours swallowing everyone’s greeting, forcing out a smile. She was aware than Eloise and Jude, Bumper’s father, had been trying to talk to her. Beca told Jaq to steer clear from them. She was too inexperienced to talk to someone of higher caliber, especially Eloise who can bend one’s will to submission.

 

By midnight the palace had transformed into a dancing hall. Slow Classical music reverberated in everyone’s ears. The hierarchal barrier was nullified for the time being. Kings danced with Princesses and Queens danced with Princes. Beca sat out and pretended to immerse herself in conversation with Jamie Hefley of Merrick and Mylla Winston of Marfori. Jamie was tall, dark and handsome. His dark almond eyes regarded Beca in full attention, his eyebrows arching perfectly. Mylla, on the other hand was short and stubby. Turn her curly brunette locks to blonde and give her a mouthful, she could pass as Fat Amy’s twin.

 

“I already told my parents that receiving half of Marfori’s shares is just like marrying Mylla! We have decided to entitle everything we own as conjugal property whether they like it or not.” Jamie ranted.

 

“Why can’t everyone just accept that we are in love?” Mylla added with a sigh.

 

“Maybe they’re not convinced with what you’re saying? The concept of love is too complex.” Beca shrugged. Being a Love Guru was better than dancing around in slow motion. A lot of Princes have asked for her hand; being everyone’s new toy and all. Beca turn them down in reasons of having yet to learn to dance and not being good enough for the ball for the time being.

 

Beca knew whatever she heard or saw, whoever royal brat she met, she’ll forget about them soon. She had more important things to do. The night was far from over. The surveillance they planned— _Valery_ planned, the one where Eloise used a part of the underground warehouse as control room and used the satellites Beca never knew they had for extra vision of what was happening inside and outside the very mansion and that it was still going on. Eloise had been openly ranting on how high the chances that Valor would make a move in the occasion a few days back. Julia, Kelly and Chloe were supposed to be updating them about what the rest of the ten members of Valery had discovered cross-country. After being declared as one of Vancleave’s, Beca doubt they would even talk to her.

 

Beca excused herself the moment her eyes caught a familiar streak of red, Jaq and the twins trailing behind her. Her legs strained from her high heels, every step careful not to catch unnecessary attention. Past through the dancing royalties, Beca caught Chloe’s eyes. The ginger averted her gaze as if her electric blue orbs held secrets that the brunette was not supposed to know. Aubrey, who noticed too, called Stacie’s attention. Before Beca could even approach them, Valery’s little pack was lost in the crowd. Beca was avoiding Eloise but not her friends. She felt she needed to talk to them; Chloe, especially. She couldn’t just _abandon_ them—though it looked like it was the other way around.

 

“That was a rash move.” Jaq said when the brunette gave up. Beca felt her jaw clench when she turned to the older woman. The blonde quickly looked down and apologized.

 

Beca scanned the hall, peeping through the gaps the people made due to the disadvantage of her height. It didn’t seem important a few moments ago but whatever Valery was avoiding her about, she felt the need to tell it to her mother and her uncle. She turned to her escorts. “This is urgent. I need my mom or uncle. Or both.” The twins quickly went separate ways.

 

“May I ask what’s wrong?” Jaq spoke, careful with her words this time.

 

Beca caught another glimpse a streak of red hair and glittering emeralds. She started pacing to the other end of the room cautiously, the pistol strapped around her thigh getting heavier by the second. “Valery is up to something. I need to know what it is.”

 

A group of black tuxedos blocked her after a few steps. “Hello little Princess. What are you hurrying for?” Bumper’s devilish grin was right in front of her face. Beca’s eyes were hard on Donald, still the most likely suspect of her dad’s murder. Jesse and Benji, who stood behind Bumper, avoided her glare. Bumper chuckled. “You’re still believing that Donald is your suspect?”

 

“Get out of the way.” Beca snapped, her eyes still following Chloe until they disappeared behind a huge Gothic column. She turned back to Bumper. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

 

Bumper chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. His hair was slick with hair products, his face cleaner than Beca had ever seen, though he still looked like a giant mouse. “You think you can push us—me around just because you’re in Vancleave now? Ha! You don’t even know anything other than trying to make a good impression. I’m not surprised the estrogen side won’t even talk to you. I wouldn’t too, if I was them. You swore loyalty and now you’re on an entirely new side.” He scoffed. “Such treachery.”

 

“I don’t have time for your insults, Bumper.” Beca rolled her eyes, chin up and walked past them. A cold hand got her pale arm. She turned to Jesse’s pain-stricken face. His warm brown eyes were faint, his face exhausted. Sweat ran down the side of his forehead. Bumper’s hands were in his pockets. Donald and Benji didn’t stop him either. When Jaq was about to step in, Beca told her it was okay.

 

“What happened to you?” asked Beca, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

 

Jesse may be an escort and a Valor but they were more than friends once. His cold grip was tight on her small frame. His eyes were burning—raging with reason Beca wanted to know. “This might be your last chance, Beca. Think carefully of what has happened. Something is wrong. Can’t you figure it out by yourself?”

 

“What in the world are you talking about?”

 

“People don’t survive because they trust. They survive because they _doubt_.” His nails dug in her skin. “They’re just using you. You’re on the wrong side, Beca.”

 

“You don’t have the right to do that. Or tell her what to do.” Jaq had stripped his grip from her arm forcefully. Jesse staggered backwards and left with his pack without intention to fight back.

 

Beca smudged the pint of blood from the shallow wound, her mind preoccupied by the sudden disappearance of music. Murmurs were louder. Royal families huddled close, the huge archways suddenly brimming with people. People were rushing to the exit in silent fashion, walking swiftly in long strides. Jaq was conversing with the receiver on her left ear. She spoke through her teeth a lot which was definitely not a good sign.

 

“What’s going on?” Beca asked as they headed to the arched doorways, her shoulders bumping against everyone else’s.

 

“Ball’s over. Forsberg has cancelled the event. Your mother and your uncle are heading out too with the twins. I have to get you out safely.” Jaq overtook her, gripping her wrist. Her gray eyes met hers for a split second and Beca shivered in fear of the unknown. “There was a commotion in one of the rooms. One of Valery has been shot.”

 

Beca froze, then turned around, storming against the massive wave of the organizations. She had twisted her arm to steer free from Jaq’s iron grip but another had caught her by her bare shoulder, locking her in another tight grip.

 

“Let me go. I need to see them.” The smaller girl struggled, ears deafened by the loud pounding of her heart. She lashed out to Jaq, silently wishing everyone in Valery was still alive. The last thing she wanted was her future ruined by the proclamation of her rights as a Vancleave. A lump got stuck in her throat as she thought of the possibilities. “I need to know who got shot.”

 

“The King and the Queen gave the orders.” Jaq said, jaw clenched. She dragged Beca outside.

 

The siren of emergency vehicles rang in Beca’s ears, fading outward to one of the side entrances of the mansion. She found herself being thrown on the seat of a while limousine, sweat tickling down the side of her head, her make-up smudged, her face gritty. She gave her mother who sat beside her a look, a mix of frustration and beseeching. As the limousine swerved through the open road, following the long trail of limousines who wanted to get as far away from the unfortunate scene as fast as possible, it was impossible for Beca to sit still.

 

“I have the right to know something.” She demanded after a couple of minutes. She bade a silent goodbye to the elegant chateau that played a part in her life’s little game. More ambulances rushed in from the opposite road.

 

Joseph occupied the entire row adjacent to the backseat where Virginia and Beca were. Near the driver’s seat, the six escorts sat still, Jaq and the twins included. Joseph crossed his legs. “Father always told us not to play with guns. It’s unfortunate that he’s not around to lecture those sissy little girls.”

 

Virginia turned to Beca, her dangling gold earrings flashing with LA’s night life. She studied her daughter’s face, trying to solve the puzzle that lied underneath her bewildered face. “Why do you hold regard the safety of treacherous pawns like Valery?”

 

Beca’s eyes hardened. “They’re my friends. They’re the ones who have been there for me when you weren’t. Who did it— I can’t blame Bumper. What are the names of Jude’s escorts?”

 

“Are you sure these so called friends of yours consider you an ally?” scoffed Virginia, a sly smile on her thin lips. “They can’t even trust one another.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You know what I mean, honey. Valery needs to solve their own mess before they do something stupid again. Their smell gets worse by the year.”

 

“I’ve been with them for five months. I know them.” Beca clenched her fist.

 

“Oh, do you?” Virginia chuckled, staring into her daughter’s naïve eyes. “A room is occupied by five of Valery and Aubrey Posen. After a couple of minutes Kelly Madison is found dead, a bullet down her throat.” She rested her sharp chin on the back of her wrinkling hand. “Valery didn’t even care that everyone knew.”

 

Beca knew the world she got herself in, knew the company she surrounded herself with. Valery was a family. They shared laughter and tears. They made real memories. They were willing to kill for the safety of another. The Valery she knew was not insane enough to start shooting each other recklessly.

 

She leaned back against the posh leather seat, unclenching her fists. Her blue eyes were wide as plates as she stared into the long backseat of the limousine, her throat parch dry. No matter how relieved she was that it wasn’t Chloe or Aubrey (or even Stacie) who got shot, another problem slapped itself on her face.

 

“There are clothes your size on the trunk. We’re going back to Georgia immediately. We’re staying in your uncle’s house. We still have a lot of stuff to organize.” Virginia took a deep breath.

 

“What about Kelly’s death? Aren’t we going to do something about it?” Beca reasoned out. “She’s my sister. I have to pay my respects. I need to know who did it. And dad—”

 

“We don’t have any obligation to them. It’s their mess… What do you think happened, my dear daughter? I want you to solve this mystery case. Let me see how well you _know_ them.”

 

 

\--

 

 

The Conrad’s enormous Christmas tree was still alive, its lights dancing as they were made to, without complaints. The red and green socks that hang by the fireplace were empty, the life-size Santa Claus that stood at the corner of the room stood still, staring.

 

It was the 26th of December. She was disoriented, unfocused. It took at least three attempts to get her attention. She tried. She tried so hard not to mess up, not to lose control. It was Kelly’s fault. Kelly sabotaged the entire operation. They had the Valor in their grip—in a room. They could’ve ended it then and there but Kelly happened. She played for Valor and they got away.

 

The moment Valor was out of sight she lost all control. The crystal clear memories haunted her with the intention of plunging her into the abyss of guilt she tried so hard to forget. Her hands still shook—the same hands that pushed Kelly down and shoved the gun in her mouth. She could still remember her sister’s last moments. The rush of panic in her eyes, the whimper for mercy, the struggle for life. She saw it yet she shot her down like how she shot her targets and Valor. Merciless. The demon pawn that slept for the past five months was stirring awake again. This time Beca wasn’t here to remind her of her sanity.

 

Chloe wondered, as she stared into the fireplace, if it would kill her if she placed both her sinful hands over the crackling fire. She wondered if the searing heat offered forgiveness. If it would bring Kelly back.

 

“A quick death is the best Christmas gift she could ever receive after what she has done.” Eloise entered the living room, the aroma of sweets and chocolate wafting around. She laid a tray of mugs full of hot chocolate on the coffee table and sat comfortably on the couch. “It’s not a big deal, Chloe. Ease up.”

 

“If you didn’t kill her, she would still be here. And I’d still be removing her nails one by one… Maybe try digging her eyeballs like mom did. I’ve always wanted to try that…” Stacie, who sat on a beanbag, got two mugs. When she handed Aubrey one, the blonde shrugged her off. The Princess rolled her eyes and handed the mug to Chloe instead. “You would seriously mourn for a traitor who almost got all of us killed?”

 

“She’s one of us.” Chloe mumbled.

 

“ _Once_.” Alice Vanderbilt scoffed, flipping her bob-cut hair.

 

“I’m actually very thankful, Chloe.” Julia smiled, her bright smile honest, her legs crossed as she sat beside Eloise. Her eyes, though, held a dark pool of distaste. “Kelly’s become too much. Any guess on how long she had been ticking in for Valor?”

 

“I suspected her two weeks ago. There were blocked numbers in our call log.” Amber Doolittle spoke in her all-knowing voice. “When we lured Stan out, Kelly warned them. It was a good thing that Beca was there. Other than that and our plan in the Royal Ball, I don’t think she informed Valor of our future plans; if she ever heard them. Her actions were quite restricted, to be honest.”

 

“Like someone controlled her?” asked Debora.

 

“More like _blackmailed_.”

 

“Dicks.” Sara muttered in her little voice. Everyone’s eyes snapped to her and remembered how mature she was for her age.

 

“With Vancleave around, it could’ve been them.” Amber shrugged, sipping her hot chocolate. “Look at the bomb they set off at the ball. I bet everything that happened before and what will happen have been manipulated by their royal freaks.” When Aubrey and Chloe’s eyes darted to her, Amber chuckled. “Not entirely sure on their little Princess—precious Beca and the little things she knew, but their King and Queen are definitely whackos.”

 

“I never liked that old hag.” Stacie said. An idea popped in her head and she turned to Eloise. “It’s not too late, is it?”

 

“Oh yeah, right.” Eloise, who was long bored of the Kelly-topic, stretched her arms. She got up and addressed the remaining Valery in Barden. Her full lips stretched into a wide smile as if all the happiness in the world was with it. Her eyes glinted with spirit. “Who’s up for exchange gifts? Beca and Kelly’s gifts will be put up for a random draw.”

 

Chloe glanced at Aubrey who shook her head. She knew Eloise only for a while but it was enough to read her expression. She had something planned—for Vancleave and Valor for sure. Chloe could only hope it did not involve killing Beca.

 

 

\--

 

 

Aubrey spent the next day consoling her best friend. She had gotten used to the fact that when Beca was around, they stick like magnets. Now that she was gone without any promise of returning, Aubrey distasted her. She couldn’t leave Chloe like that, especially that Chloe killed again. If Eloise and Stacie had no souls, Chloe’s was still holding on. She kills ruthlessly, in a demoralizing way like their royalties, but she’s overcome with a great wave of guilt afterwards.

 

The night was late and the mansion was asleep. Aubrey was torn between being herself and being who she was expected to be. It was a huge burden; to be one of Valery’s. She knew the consequences yet she agreed. It was because of those eyes. Stacie’s eyes. They held an unspeakable truth that moment when she asked her to be in her world. Sincerity. Warmth. Home. It was the only time when she saw Stacie’s eyes as vulnerable as an open soul.

 

She couldn’t stay away from her, even if she wanted to, even if everything she has been doing was everything she hated. Stacie was a devil with a cherry-top yet Aubrey couldn’t run away. She couldn’t abandon the small flicker of humanity that was left in her eyes. It tore her apart; her duties, Valery, Chloe and Beca. Then there’s always Stacie.

 

She leaned her back against the edge of her bed, her eyes awake in the darkness. She wondered how long had she been attached to Stacie, how many wasted months she spent keeping up with the monster that trapped her inside the house, how many attempts she failed on running away and living a normal life. It could’ve been easier if she wasn’t in Valery. A lot _easier_.

 

Tears found her eyes that lonely night. Aubrey wept for herself, for letting it go this far where more lives were taken away, where everyone around her was on the verge of insanity. Her folded knees were wrapped with her arms, her heart aching for the loss of her identity. Aubrey Posen, head of the Barden Bellas. That alone made her happy. She could live with it. Being a part of Valery in an arm and Chloe’s membership tested her courage and beliefs but it was bearable. Meeting Stacie Conrad, the girl who questioned her, it was the one she couldn’t take.

 

But she held her that night. Stacie. She heard the blonde’s silent sobs and stole the emergency keys from her mother to get through her room. Stacie slipped in but didn’t turn the lights on. And she sat beside Aubrey, held her, stroked her hair, and told her it was going to be alright. _They_ were going to be alright.

 

Aubrey shivered, suffocating from the irony of the lady who questioned her. She was supposed to stay away from her. But she was seized by desire. She craved to be with Stacie. It didn’t feel right or moral. But it made her happy. Whatever kind of companionship the other girl offered Aubrey took it because she made her happy.

 

She held Stacie’s hands, laced her long slender fingers with hers, yearned for the warmth they offered. Aubrey stared out into the open and met Stacie’s light blue orbs that shone in the faint moonlight. The blonde took one of her hands, slipped it under her shirt, sparks igniting as flesh touched flesh once again and led it on a small portion of her back.

 

The contours of the flesh were uneven. Stacie’s fingers carefully trailed over the mark, her shallow breathing against the blonde’s cheek. There was a brand of a letter. One she was familiar with. One which writings were framed on the wall of their living room. One she wished she had the privilege to have.

 

“I know.” Her whisper was barely audible.

 

“I… I don’t know if I can do this.” The blonde mumbled.

 

“We’ve talked about this, Aubrey.” Stacie held her face in the dark, the pale moonlight from the small windows illuminating a part of Aubrey’s face. She kissed her, one that came with reassurance and security. “Do what you have to do. I’ll protect you… from everything, from everyone who tries to stop you.”

 

Aubrey craved for another kiss. She held the hands on her face, and will forever remember how warm they were. “If I fail?”

 

“Failure is not an option.” Stacie commanded, her words mixed with impending suffering. “You will not die on me, Aubrey Posen.”

 

Aubrey pushed through. “But if I do?”

 

And she swore she saw the same eyes from the first time they met, ones that held everything she loved.

 

“I die with you.”

 

 


	13. Colors

The screams tore through the cold night air. “THOSE FUCKING SLUTS!” The shards of the wooden chair, smashed hard against the gray walls of Valor’s underground headquarters, flew in all directions.

 

“I knew he’s been avoiding his anger management classes all this time.” Jude Martin leaned back against the velvet red chair with a golden V standing on its peak. He turned to Donald who stood on his left. “I am expecting you to do a better job.”

 

Donald cleared his throat uneasily, his dark almond eyes on the ceramic tiles by his feet. “I apologize for my shortcomings.”

 

Bumper stormed up to his father, his face red and drenched in sweat, his hands calloused. “Just say the word and I will destroy every single one of them.”

 

 

“I wonder what you’re so enraged about.” Jude narrowed his eyes, studying his son’s face. The rest of Valor quietly watched from across the rectangular box. “Is it that you did not anticipate Valery’s plan of annihilating us or is it because that today is supposed to be Kelly Madison’s funeral but Valery does not honor her anymore and you can’t do anything about it?”

 

Benji and Unicycle stood opposite Donald. Jesse, who stood silently beside Donald, watched intently as Bumper’s face turned as hard as stone at the girl’s name. Bumper and Kelly had been going out since last month, silently sneaking dates in between the rival groups’ duties. The rest of Valor knew, even tried to warn their Prince of their melodramatic love-story in the making. But Bumper listened to no one.

 

“A simple funeral would be more than enough.” He fumed. “Or a small rite to pay respect to their dead.”

 

“Everyone warned you, Bumper.” Jude said. “Valor and Valery are magnets of the same pole. Force them together and they’d blast even farther apart. If you only—”

 

“If I only listened! I know! It was my fault. I blame myself for being too careless. For letting my decisions cloud my emotions.”

 

“Family and duty comes first, my dear son. We can’t let ourselves be overcome by emotions. The moment we lose our iron grip—the moment we start putting our selfish ambitions in front of our duties as Barden’s guardians will be the same moment we become like Valery.”

 

Silence overtook the underground box. The bright rows of white lights that lined across the ceiling beamed quietly. The rest of Valor stood still, nerves wrecking at the scene before them. Bumper’s tantrums were common but having a fit when his father was around was unlike him.

 

There was a hitch of breathing before the Prince muttered. “I loved her.”

 

“Love is such a strong and dangerous word to use.” Jude chuckled. “The so-called love you speak of is destroying both Marfori and Merrick. If it was anything you felt, it was raging hormones. The unavoidable lust that comes before you turn into an adult.” The trapped air was thick with tension. “Though I assure you, we will still destroy Valery. Eloise had wronged me in more ways than I allowed her to.” His fists were balled. “I will crush them with my own hands.”

 

Bumper’s face softened by a degree though his clenched jaw did not relax. “What of Vancleave?”

 

Whispers rebounded against the walls. Low murmurs were heard all over the place.

 

“Simple.” Jude took a deep breath before closing his eyes to sleep on his throne. He gave Jesse one last look. “We enlighten their Princess.”

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

Joseph Mitchell’s residence reminded Beca of Stacie’s mansion. Though she used to visit his uncle’s place once a year for Thanksgiving until her parents divorced, Beca never took special notice of the framed scripts that hung on the walls. A huge embroidered pyramid caught her attention. There were three letter Vs. The V on the left base of the pyramid was more slender, the tips of the letter arching outwards. It only swirled once around the left segment before curving a trail down. The one on the right base was of a thicker V, the branches straighter and edgier, the tail curling around the left segment once and going around the entire letter before trailing down. Her eyes followed the tail of huge embroidered V on the top of the pyramid. It swirled around the left segment twice before trailing down. It was a combination of the ones on the base, as thick as the one on the right base and as curvy as the one on the left base.

 

“Uncreative, aren’t they?”

 

Beca snapped attention to her mother beside her.

 

Virginia laughed aloud, her gold canine tooth sparkling. “They’re too lazy to make a mark of their own, they just copied ours. Had Stacie branded you with their filthy symbol, I would have her head chopped right then and there.”

 

“But the one on my back’s n—”

 

“It’s Vancleave, my dear.”

 

Beca dashed to the full body mirror in the living room. The five members of the organization stood in attention and controlled their facial expressions when she raised her black shirt and craned to get a better view. She swore it had been Valery’s. It had been the same as Chloe’s mark, the one at the back of her left shoulder. Or was it? Beca didn’t know what Vancleave’s brand even look like at that time. The V was clearly bold, curvy and the tail curved once around the left segment before curling around the very letter.

 

“What the fuck is happening?” She whipped her head to the woman who stood by the hallway’s doorframe, arms crossed on her chest. Virginia’s smile had not vanished on her lips. “What does this mean?”

 

“You’ve been asking a lot of questions lately. The answers are right in front of you.”

 

Beca’s eyebrows furrowed as she fixed her shirt. She could hear her own heartbeat at the back of her head. “I wasn’t a Valery?”

 

Joseph appeared from the kitchen a grin on his aging face, a checkered apron around his neck and a bottle of champagne in his hands. “For our successful rebirth!” He shouted before flicking the cork with his thumb.

 

Everyone ducked at the liquid fireworks. The wine splayed all over the room, the cork hitting the high ceiling before knocking a gold vase off, which was luckily saved by Jaq. A russet haired escort came out from the kitchen, his eyes lazy underneath his thick glasses. On his covered hands was a tray of cakes and wine glasses. He laid it on the coffee table before disappearing back to the kitchen.

 

“Woops… Thank you, Payne.” Joseph poured the overflowing champagne in the glasses. Everyone stared at him in silence. He handed Virginia and Beca half-full glasses. “What are you waiting for? I’ve saved this baby for this occasion.”

 

“You’re gonna clean your mess on the carpet.” Virginia nudged him in the ribs before taking a sip. “Mmm... Fantastic.” She smiled at Beca, whose eyes were wide and unresponsive. “You never were a Valery, hon. No need to worry about breaking a goddamn oath.”

 

“Never?” Beca cleared her throat. “…you mean  _they_  knew?”

 

“I don’t know about the others but I’m sure as hell that Eloise and Stacie knew. As I expected, those bitches didn’t tell you a thing.” The other woman finished her fill in one gulp before taking the stairs to the upper floors. “You need to see this.”

 

Beca followed and after a few seconds she found herself staring at a wall-sized tapestry. Like everything else in the house, she swore it wasn’t there before. All those Thanksgiving celebrations she thought her uncle couldn’t afford to paint the second floor’s hallways and decided to cover it with a white cloth.

 

“Wow.” It was all she could say as she stared into the masterpiece. The tapestry was an ancient family tree, the leaves and branches twisting around each other in a fluid motion, the names elaborately sewn into perfection, the interrelation of everyone on the wide cloth on the wall an antique marvel. Valery and Valor may have started at around 1920 according to Stacie, but Vancleave was in an entirely different scale. The first royalties, Alexander and Katherine Vancleave, dated way back to the 16th century. They had three children; names in which Beca did not pay much attention, for her eyes were still busy processing the ancient lineage in front of her. “Who did this?”

 

“The Queens are in charge of that, so it’s me. First time seeing one?” said Virginia. “If I’m not mistaken, Valery has one too. So does Valor, though I doubt theirs would be as intricate as ours because they lack in the female sector. Every organization has one. It helps us keep track of things.”

 

By the late 18th century, the tree’s branches were in its full blow, the number of descendants the most number than in any other generation. Beca’s eyes trailed down to the mid 19th century, where the branches started meeting dead ends.

 

“The 19th century was The Blood of Ash. The underground was very unstable.” Joseph came with a half-empty glass of champagne in his hand. His eyes followed Beca’s. “Luxor of Oregon was a notable organization. They wanted to take over the entire continental U.S. at one point. Vancleave opposed, and all the other organizations were forced to choose sides. Can you imagine how powerful and amazing our ancestors were? You probably know what happened next.” He sipped his drink. “Killings. Destruction. Everyone fought but not everyone lived through the end. Luxor didn’t even make it to the end of the century.”

 

“They’re gone?” Beca asked. She never imagined an organization being completely annihilated.

 

“In a way.” said Virginia. “What remained of their members rose up to power and took over, though everyone knows their royalty is only by name. The original family was completely erased from the face of the Earth. Not everyone who falls gets to stand up, you know.”

 

All the dozen and more branches met dead ends and only a single family branch kept the tree alive. By the early 20th century, the twins Valor and Valery branched out. They were both dead ends. The line continued with the brother of the twins’ parents, the reign of Xavier and Eldora Vancleave. They had two daughters, Hanna, who did not marry and bore any child, and Irina, who married Clive and branched out to Joseph and Jonathan. Jonathan and Virginia were the last of the Kings and Queens. Beca trailed her fingers over the beautiful script of her name under her parents’.

 

The melancholic silence of the afternoon almost scared her. A line of powerful people, Kings and Queens who shaped Georgia, one of the most feared organizations in the old times, was dying. A heavy weight of responsibility dropped on her shoulders. Beca Mitchell was the last name on the tapestry. She was the dead end.

 

Virginia took notice of the change in Beca’s expression. She draped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder casually. “Don’t stress over it, honey. We still have a long way to go.”

 

Whatever part of history Valery told her, it didn’t compare to the few minutes of explanation from Vancleave. The tapestry and The Blood of Ash felt more real, more believable than anything else Stacie told her. From the way things turned out, Eloise, Stacie, Jude and Bumper are all distant relatives.

 

“What about dad, don’t you care about him? You know who killed him, don’t you?”

 

Virginia’s eyes narrowed into slits, her lips pursed. She felt the weight of her daughter’s stare, those same judgmental eyes that watched her leave a couple of years ago. “I have more important things to do than dwell in the past but I’ll give you something to ponder on.” She turned to leave. “No Queen wants a dead King.”

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

_‘Hello, this is Beca’s phone. I can’t talk right now. Just leave a message after the beep.’_

_Beep._

_“Aubrey Posen here. I understand the side you’ve taken and I think the rest of them understand too. But Chloe’s throwing a fit. Has she called you? She’s really shaken up. Call me back ASAP.”_

_“Hi, Beca. It’s Stacie. Your new home must be nice, eh? Fewer people to share rooms and luxury with. No hard feelings over your declaration of rights as an heir. Let’s just keep in touch. It wouldn’t hurt to socialize with family, right? See ya.”_

_“Hey Becky, it’s me, Jesse. Uh, hi. I know you’re there and you just don’t want to talk to me. We didn’t get to talk properly during the ball. I have something really important to say and it would be better if I say it personally. Call me back when you’ve made up your mind. Bye.”_

_“Hello Beca, this is Luke Gerard of Forsberg. In behalf of our organization, I sincerely apologize for the unfortunate events that happened in this year’s Royal Ball. Though we cannot undo what has been done, shall Forsberg be given another chance in hosting the event; I can assure you that there will be no more accidents. I don’t think I’ll be going back to Barden, too. The accident that happened at the Royal Ball made us owe everyone an apology and a compensation for what should have been a successful tying of knots for the other organizations. Personally, I feel awful that Vancleave was not given a proper event for its rebirth. I also want to remind you that Forsberg still has your back, as it always has. We wish you all luck for the rest of the years to come. Have a prosperous new year!”_

_“Good day, Beca. This is Jaq. Your uncle wants to meet you on the 12th in the mansion. He says it’s about legalizing your share in the organization’s properties. That’s all. Good day.”_

_“Aubrey Posen here. Again. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’re not answering any of my calls. I know you’re working your ass over there but Chloe needs you. She’s not in good condition right now. Call me back ASAP. As soon as possible.”_

 

She took a deep breath and shut her phone off. It was the 28th. Beca had stopped receiving calls since the Royal Ball. Everything was spinning so fast again. A week ago she was a simple member, with her good company, with Chloe and Aubrey and the rest of Valery. Now she was the only heir of the organization who saved the underground society in the 19th century. Nothing could get messier than that. Each passing day felt realer and more of a joke at the same time.

 

The door swung open and he came in at least three layers of clothing. He sat opposite her, wrapping himself tighter in his clothes. One of the twin escorts offered to take his coat but he refused. A forced chuckle came out of his shivering mouth. “I’m fine. Hey, Becky.”

 

Beca leaned back on her seat, her arms crossed over her chest. She took a glance at her parka that hung on the rack by the door, leaving her in no less than two layers of shirt. “Hello, Jesse.”

 

Jesse looked around, taking in the extravagance of Joseph Mitchell’s house. He paused when he took notice of the triangle of framed scripts on the wall. He shifted his attention quickly to the escorts that stood on the sides of the living room.

 

“Wow. I never thought Vancleave had been keeping its riches all this time.” He cleared his throat. “The only gold we have is the ones on our throne. The King says earthly riches blind us from our true purpose.”

 

Beca’s eyebrow perked up. “Which is?”

 

“Protecting our state.”

 

“How are we supposed to protect our state when we can’t even sort out ourselves?”

 

“The only ones that need to be sorting out are your priorities.”

 

“This is the worst place to pick a fight, Jesse. You know that.” Beca took a hint at the purple tint under his lips. Either he has become a heavy smoker or he has been constantly engaging in fights. “You also know that I don’t want to waste time. I still have to acquaint with the rest of my members.”

 

Jesse glanced at the four other members of Vancleave. Two boys were twins, a well-toned blonde lady and a russet-haired nerd had their jaws clenched, as if ready to shoot him with a flick of a finger. “True, but it would be better if they’re not around.”

 

The grandfather clock ticked 6pm. Beca ordered the other members to leave. After Jaq left with a look of utter disagreement, Jesse took a deep breath, one that made his lungs shiver.

 

“Where did you get it?” Beca asked. Her eyes were hard on what used to be his warm chocolate brown ones.

 

He shifted from his seat. “What do you mean?”

 

“Don’t act dumb, Jesse. I may not be a med student but I know you’re sick as shit. Where did you get it?”

 

“I did not come here to talk about me. I came here to talk about you and all the things that are happening around you.” Jesse blinked and tried to stared back as hard. His heart still flutters every time he sees her. “I bet you don’t even know half the things that are happening, especially after being in a world of lies.” He joked.

 

“What? I know everything. The only remarkable memory I have of who I was included remixing, being socially awkward and being in an a cappella group. But of course I knew that my father’s going to die, that Stacie and Bumper are fucking royalties and that I was the sole heir to an underground organization who was said to be extinct until now.” She replied with matching sarcasm.

 

He looked down, his face serious all of a sudden. “I apologize if Valor only allows male members. I’d have protected you a lot more if you were on our side.”

 

“Protect me? From who? I was perfectly safe. Valery’s the only ones I’ll go to, anyway.” She hated hurting him, but it was inevitable. “I’m sorry Jesse, but never did I consider siding with Valor. Not when everyone says you were the one responsible for my father’s death.”

 

“Beca, I knew who killed your father.” He frowned, his eyes watery. “Everyone in Valor knows. I know I’ll be hunted after this but I can’t take the guilt anymore. They wanted to drop the bomb on the right time but my conscience will kill me sooner than they will if I don’t tell you right now.”

 

Her face changed, like a blind seeing light for the first time, her crystal blue eyes craving for the answer she searched for the longest time. She had not solved the problem but the answer was already in front of her, revealing itself. But something was wrong. Never did she expect that the truth will come this  _soon_ , effortlessly, out of Jesse Swanson’s mouth.

 

“Of course, they know. You know.” She could hear her own heartbeat, the raw stab of anticipation robbing her out of breath. “Was it Donald? Or someone else in Valor? Jesse was it you? Who?”

 

Once the name was confirmed, Beca was sure to have her plans of bittersweet revenge extracted on Donald. Every possible Valor, if it comes to a sore point. By joining forces with Valery and maybe a little help from Forsberg, annihilating the all-male organization was a sure move. All Beca needed was a go sign. She urged him to continue.

 

How Jesse wished he was not this unfortunate. “Chloe. Chloe Beale.”

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

If sudden burst of emotions came with the lineage, she was sure she got the worst end. Was there any way to steer clear of abrupt decisions? Beca had been holding it in for a while now, the anger, the loneliness, the confusion. She used to have Chloe around, one worthy of her time, but even before she felt distant from the rest of Valery. All this time she had been absorbing what was given of her, trying to understand the entirely different world she was truly born in. She wanted to, at least, live up to the expectations to stay as someone they wanted her to be. Maybe a little bit of letting go would help.

 

Beca marched through the manicured front lawn, Jaq, the twins and Payne, the russet-haired member, trailing behind her. Debora and Sara who were playing Frisbee stopped and rushed before the armed entourage got to the porch.

 

“What are you doing here Beca? What’s all this?” Debora warned, her huge hands ready to shove Beca off. “Whoa, whoa,  _whoa!_  Slow down!” When the smaller girl showed no signs of stopping, the giant used brute force. The twins zipped past her guard and held each arm and locked them behind her back in a calculated move, paving the way for Beca, Jaq and Payne.

 

“I just want to talk to them.” said Beca.

 

“Then let me go!” Debora spoke through her teeth. Beca glanced at the twins and they loosened their grip. The giant shoved them both away. “If you mean no harm, you won’t be afraid to go alone.”

 

“This is your territory. God knows what you could have planned for her.” Jaq butted in.

 

“Yes,  _ours_.” The little girl smiled. “Therefore, we have the right to enforce our own rules. One of them says that you have to leave your dogs behind if you want to enter, Beca.”

 

“You know that they already know you’re here, don’t you?” said Debora.

 

Beca turned to the rest of her members. They all hesitated.

 

“You haven’t thought of this thoroughly. You don’t know what you’re doing.” said Jaq. “You don’t know them.”

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“You don’t know what could happen in there!” The blonde pleaded. “Don’t be stubborn, Beca. Let’s go back.”

 

“You swore to follow me, didn’t you?”

 

A flash of regret crossed the blonde’s face before she stepped down from the porch. The twins and Payne followed her.

 

Little girl Sara stood by the doorway, hands behind her back. Her bright emerald eyes wondered in awe at Beca. “It’s unfortunate that I’m told not to hurt Princesses.” She opened the door.

 

Beca stepped in, her jaw clenched. True, she was aware that she was walking in a trap but she didn’t care. The truth was what she lived for. If Jesse was telling the truth, she was willing to die for it.

 

The mansion was still home warm, like when they left for LA. The Christmas decorations were still hanging around. A plate of cookies and mugs of warm chocolate on the coffee table acted as futile props to calm her down. She was only given a second to reminisce the memories. Violent clicking alerted her the moment she stepped in. Guns slipped out of everyone’s pockets.

 

Seven ladies were scattered across the living room, six whose guns were aimed solely on Beca, who stood still. Aubrey was on the far corner of the room, her fists balled instead. Stacie stood in front of her, a gun confidently aimed at Beca. Alice, Amber, Julia had their bullets ready too. Chloe stood in front of the fireplace, aiming her own handgun to the brunette.

 

“You can’t be here!” Stacie exclaimed, though her gun was still in the other Princess’s direction. “I mean—No! Why are you here?!”

 

“A bit proud, aren’t we, Beca?” Eloise welcomed her with her silver revolver, the barrel encrusted in gold.

 

Beca turned to Chloe, hearing no one else. “Were you the one who killed my father?” But she noticed everyone’s expression change. They knew too.

 

Chloe was dead serious, her face a mask of dark intent. Her electric blue eyes froze her on the spot. Beca tried to remember the girl she sang Titanium with a few months back. Whoever she was, she wasn’t the Chloe in front of her. “Go home, Beca. You shouldn’t be here. Leave.”

 

“I’m going to ask you again. Is it true… about my father?”

 

Chloe didn’t answer this time.

 

“What part of leave didn’t you understand?” asked Alice.

 

“Beca, please.” Aubrey voiced out from the corner. “Please, leave now. She’s not herself.  _Please._ ”

 

“Such rudeness. Not even greeting first. Strike two, Beca.” Eloise’s grip on her revolver tightened. “Just one more and I’ll blow your head off.”

 

“Mom, let’s not do this.” Stacie pleaded.

 

“Tell me they were lying.” Being stubborn, however, was a trademark trait of Vancleave. Beca’s feet were still rooted on the ground, her eyes never leaving Chloe’s. “Tell me you didn’t kill my father.”

 

Three consecutive gunshots shifted her attention. There was screaming and wrestling. As abrupt at it burst, the noise died down as fast. The door swung open after a couple of seconds. Beca turned around to see Debora blocking the entire doorway. Her hands were drenched in blood, her face painted in sinister red. “Not surprised at how inexperienced they were. Very brittle, their bones. ”

 

Sara slipped inside, twirling two knives in a hand. Both were painted in red too. The little girl brought one of the blades to her mouth and tasted it. “Mmm… She doesn’t taste as good as I thought she would. I’m disappointed.”

 

“Don’t worry. Margery and Amber will be bringing a Valor in a while.” Julia said. “Who was it now? Jesse Swanson? You know him, don’t you, Beca?”

 

Beca’s heartbeat echoed in her own head. She didn’t know these people. How fast did they know that it was Jesse, she did not have any idea. Or maybe he owed them before and it was time to pay back. Either way, Beca didn’t want him to be in danger. He was sick enough as he is.

 

When she turned back to Chloe, the ginger’s eyes were pooled with every dark desire. Hatred. Anger. Sadness. Jealousy, perhaps? Beca couldn’t quite place it. Her eyes darted to Aubrey whose hands flew to her mouth, her face struck with shock. Stacie swung her gun in Chloe’s direction. Beca felt funny. She wondered when she stopped hearing sounds. Her hand flew to her shoulder. Blood. She doubled over from the stinging pain on her shoulder. She crouched, colors swirling in front her. Her ears woke up and she heard screaming, more gunshots. Were they shooting one another? She tried to look up, realizing her grave mistake for acting too soon; regretting being swayed by her desire to know the truth, but it was too late.

 

The air has gone cold.

 

 


	14. Lies

The first gunshot rang in her ears like a curse, a spiteful moment she never thought would happen; Chloe shot Beca—missed her chest by a few centimeters. Aubrey hoped it was because she had a flash of recognition. She really hoped it was. Stacie had shot Chloe in the arm in retaliation and the ginger’s gun dropped to the ground.

 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” Stacie spoke through her teeth. “That’s Beca! You just shot Vancleave’s only heir!” She waited for someone to second her motion. Beca had passed out, the carpet beneath her body soaked with blood.

 

“If Beca dies, on the other hand, any chance of Vancleave rising back to power will be gone. Then it would just be us and Valor, just like it has always been.” Eloise pondered for a moment, her aim shifting from Beca to her daughter. The rest of the armed girls followed. “You’re thinking of the same thing too, aren’t you, honey?”

 

Aubrey’s eyes widened. “You’re not gonna hurt her. She’s your daughter!”

 

Stacie’s aim shifted to Eloise. As ridiculous as it may sound, she knew her mother only cared about her success in continuing the organization’s legacy. “Seriously, mom? I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

 

“I _can’t_ believe you tolerated her rudeness. Just because she’s from the original family she thinks she can barge in here anytime she wants? Go on, Stacie.”

 

Aubrey’s eyebrows furrowed. Her eyes followed Stacie who slowly walked over to Beca. Guns followed her movement. Chloe’s face was as expressionless as ever as she stared at Stacie, her eyes a ghastly blue. From her expression, it was as if her right arm wasn’t shot. Aubrey’s eyes flicked to Julia, who stood behind the couch. Alice shifted her attention to Julia suspiciously. The taller girl was conversing with Stacie through her huge chocolate brown eyes, giving off a signal. Stacie stood on the spot, Beca lying at her feet. She aimed for her head, the eerie silence of the room waiting for their triumph over Vancleave.

 

“All this time you want to kill her? I thought you were pleasing her into giving Valery a spot near the throne in the end.” Stacie turned back to her mother. “Are you sure you won’t regret this?”

 

“True, but wouldn’t it be better if we lessen the competition? I will regret it, honey, if I killed you because you didn’t do as told. I don’t want my 18 years wasted on you.”

 

“What, so she’s just like a pig raised for slaughter? The rest of them will go after us; Valor, Forsberg, Merrick, Montgomery, Windsor— and practically everyone who sided with them in the Blood of Ash! Are you out of your mind?”

 

Eloise’s gun was now on Beca. “Finish her off Stacie because if you won’t, I will.”

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

She was awakened by the strong putrid smell around her. Her eyelids fluttered open at the uneasy familiarity of her surroundings. The ground under her body was damp and wet, the concrete wall that pressed against her back, terrifyingly cold. Beca was sane enough to realize that she was in a cell, one of Valery’s. Past the steel bars were three rotting mannequins that stood on a pedestal, two of the male physique and one of the huge female built. They had no heads and the edge of their jaggedly cut necks still had fresh blood dripping down to their moldy green and yellow flesh. What disturbed her was that they were wearing black suits. The stench had become so revolting that Beca had to force herself to swallow the bile that shot up her throat.

 

That was when she felt it. Like a hard crashing wave, the pain slammed on her right shoulder. She had always wondered how painful it was to be shot. She couldn’t even describe it. The bullet was out of her but she could still feel the dent it made underneath the bandage, a small gap in her flesh tickled by trapped air. It was the most unpleasant feeling. She leaned back against the cold walls, her left arm gripping her right arm to prevent any unnecessary movement. She took deep breaths, counting in her head, wishing for the stinging pain to go away.

 

“The more you think about it, the more painful it becomes.” Jesse Swanson was unnoticed until now. He was in the same cell, on the far corner where the shadows had hidden his presence. “The royal gene has a lot of advantages. You’ll be fine in no time.”

 

Beca paid little attention to him until she was sure the pain was going to go away. After a few minutes of concentrating, reeling her mind away from her very first gunshot wound, she turned to Jesse who sat on the same damp ground not far away. Her eyes widened at his image. “Holy shit.”

 

“I look terrible, I know.” He chuckled. His lips had turned a darker shade of purple; his eyes, once a warm brown, now faint and bloodshot, rested on top of evident eye bags. He had lost a tremendous amount of weight that his cheeks were starting to hollow down. His right arm was dying— the spot of skin where his V used to be became the eye of the infection that crawled up to the chest underneath his shirt.

 

“Why didn’t you get yourself treated, for god’s sake?” asked Beca.

 

“I did. We did.” He shrugged. ““It’s just that the chemicals were proven to be safe until me. My body rejected it and before I realized it, it was too late. I was supposed to stay in LA to fix this.”

 

“And you’re here because?”

 

“I can still make it back. I’ll find a way. I have to.”

 

“Jesse, please don’t tell me you’re only here because I called you.”

 

He looked away. “I’m sorry.”

 

She stood up cautiously and walked over to him. She slowly released her grip on her right arm and when she was sure she had his full attention, she slapped him hard. “Stupid!” She gave him a few seconds before she continued. “How can you be so selfish that y—”

 

Heels clacked against the cold floor beyond the bars. Julia and Amber came in their parkas.

 

“As expected, you didn’t bleed out.” Amber’s voice was mixed with resentment. “How unfortunate.”

 

“What are you doing? Where’s Chloe?” Beca asked.

 

Julia smiled down on her. “Oh wow. You still have the guts to ask about Chloe after what she did to you.”

 

Beca bit her tongue. She knew Chloe had a reason—a good one. She knew she wouldn’t shoot her, or harm her in any way. _She knew Chloe_.

 

“Eloise will tend to you personally. In the meantime, we need to dispose the trash.” Amber took a set of golden keys from her pocket and unlocked the heavy lock on the steel bars. She took her handgun out with her other hand and aimed it at Jesse. “Don’t even think of doing anything stupid.”

 

“I don’t think I can even walk.” He chuckled. Amber pulled him up with his good arm, pressed her gun on the side of his head and urged him outside. Jesse stood up, legs wobbly and literally dragged himself out of the premise.

 

“Don’t take him away!” Beca stared as they passed by. Julia had her gun aimed at her from the outside. Though even without the gun, Beca doubted she could’ve done anything helpful for Jesse. “What are you going to do to him?”

 

Amber locked the steel bars and tucked the keys back in her pocket. “Stacie said something about practicing on removing nails. I’m not really sure.”

 

Julia laughed, putting her gun back in her coat. She grabbed Jesse’s shirt by the collar and dragged him forward. “I think it was about removing eyeballs, not nails.”

 

“I think I’m getting old.”

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

“Shut up or you’re gonna end up like Eloise.”

 

Beca could only listen to the hammering of her heart in her chest as she watched them walk away, disappearing into the dark hallway. She wanted to get Jesse back. She needed him alive, not dead. The silence and the growing smell of dead bodies spaced her out, made her teary eyes regard the steel bars as objects of admiration. After a couple of minutes she heard footsteps again. But this time, no heels clacked noisily. It was the faint, almost inaudible feline steps that snapped Beca in full attention.

 

She came from the same hallway in a stealthy feline crouch. She was unusually covered in a black leather jacket, her wavy blonde locks tumbling down her shoulders. When she reached the cell quietly, a silver key in her hand, her green eyes flashed at Beca. “Valor’s coming to get Jesse. All of them. If we don’t get out of here we’ll be blown to bits, especially you.”

 

Beca’s mind whirled with another set of questions but sat still until Aubrey unlocked her cell and helped her stand up. Her knees were wobbly but the thought of surviving ignited her nerves. She followed Aubrey’s lead, to a hidden tunnel just behind the rotting mannequins. Just when she thought the smell couldn’t get any worse, the sewer’s stench slapped her in the face. Their boots were half an inch in murky water. Aubrey held a small flashlight in one hand, while the other made sure Beca was still standing up. She wondered how Aubrey got the way memorized; the damn sewer could have been a labyrinth.   

 

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” She asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

 

The blonde kept walking.  “A place where you’ll be safe. Valery has a safety-slash-evacuation room.”

 

“Somewhere in the sewers?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“You have to pass through the dirty sewer to go to the safest room in the headquarters? What if you get killed by some outruns hiding here?”

 

“No one else passes by here. Valery controls this part of the underground.”

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Jesse sought refuge underneath the mahogany long bar counter. He forced himself to cramp in the small space, his breathing forming mists. Valery’s underground was several degrees cooler and he wasn’t a great fan of the cold. Being frozen to death was the most painless death he could have as of the moment.

 

Screaming and gunshots deafened him. Jesse held a pistol with his good hand, his shoulders folded. The sound of breaking glass exploded right above the counter, the shards of wine glass raining down in front of him.

 

Bumper’s crazed voice spoke across the bar counter before the sound of gunshots resumed. “This is for Stanley. For Kelly. And for every brother you took from us.” It didn’t take him a full minute to bend over the counter, blood smearing his jaw, a smile on his face. “Come on out, Jesse. We’re all clear.”

 

Jesse carefully got out of his safe spot, mindful not to drag his dying arm. Valery’s bar lounge was wreck in havoc. Broken glass were everywhere, dead bodies every ten steps or so. The rest of Valery—half of the other half, came not long before they arrived. But what do they have against a gang of at least twenty men, who have trained for this very day? Everyone had at least one gun—their physical advantage against the untrained women of Valery who didn’t expect their surprise made it a lot easy to shoot and kill.

 

“Wow. They seriously thought of celebrating Christmas this year.” Donald muttered, holding up a Christmas sock. “They’ve put up decorations both here and in the mansion.”

 

“Where are the royal brats?” Jude asked, his hands behind his back. A group of five walked alongside him. He just sat on a bar stool when the shooting commenced. “Is this the promise Eloise left me last spring break? You gotta be kidding me.”

 

“No one’s in the mansion.” said Donald.

 

“So much for that ‘I swear the next time we meet I’ll chop your head off’.” Bumper chuckled, rolling his eyes. “The bitch won’t even show herself.”

 

“They can’t get far, right, Jesse?”

 

Jesse cleared his throat, wincing at the slight grazing of his arm on the wooden counter. “Yeah. They’re all here when they brought me. Eloise and Stacie.”

 

“It’s a relief they didn’t kill you on the spot.” Jude sniggered, patting him on the back. “We’ll get you treated soon, son. It won’t be long before they fall.” He walked over to the huge door of the training room, his entourage moving with him. “Hm, I don’t suppose they have a secret chamber in here.” A smile crept in his face. “Or maybe I suppose they do.”

 

“I’m betting on it, dad.” Bumper rushed forward, a machine gun in his hands. The rest of Valor trailed behind. Jesse paced slowly when the Prince turned to him. “Go get some rest, Jesse. You’re in no condition to be up for this.”

 

Sawdust suddenly filled his throat. “What?! No, I gotta—I’m staying with you. I know where they are!”

 

“I’m sure you do. Benji, take him back home.” said Jude before they disappeared behind the doors.

 

Benji, who had been inspecting the dead bodies with Unicycle, rushed to his best friend, scratching the back of his head. He had a pistol in his other hand. “I’m pretty sure that was Margery Dale… I’m sorry, Jess. I have to take you home.”

 

Jesse was starting to panic. He was supposed to lead them. Since when did they doubted his capabilities? “Benji, I have to go with them.”

 

Benji put an arm around his shoulder. “Of course you do. It’s the wound. They think you’re not _meant_ to be in Valor.”

 

“Okay how can my physical condition affect their judgment?”

 

“I don’t know but let’s get you out of here first.”

 

“No, you don’t understand.” He pleaded, not budging. “They’re going after all of them. They’re gonna kill Beca too.”

 

“Yes, I know, _I know_ , bud. Come on.”

 

“But Benj—”

 

Benji looked at him square in the eye. “I know, Jesse. I know you want to save her. But do you have any idea how we’re going to do that when they’ve locked us out?”

 

“ _We?_ ”

 

He rolled his eyes. “You seriously think you can take them in your condition on if this is ends badly? Besides, I have to get Aubrey safe. Oh—Oops. Shouldn’t have said that.”

 

Benji narrowed his eyes. “Aubrey? You’ve been dating Aubrey Posen?!”

 

“WHAT?! No! Why would I— That blonde a—No! She’s Uni’s ex. I’m not dating her.”

 

“You just overreacted.”

 

“Do you want to argue with me or do you want to save Beca?”

 

Jesse took a deep breath and followed him to the stairs. “What’s your plan?”

 

“You said you know where they are, right? It means you also know where they are headed.” Benji twirled his gun with his thumb. “We’re gonna go there and rescue them.”

 

“Where do your loyalties even lie?” He chuckled.

 

“Seriously? I’m your best friend. I take care of you.”

 

“Okay suppose we go to their side, how will we rescue them?”

 

Benji suddenly had two pistols in one hand. He held one in each hand and spun around, pretending to shoot foes. “I’ll find a way, eventually. If Jude gets them first, we kill your brothers. I don’t have anything against killing them, Jess. I’m pretty sure you’ll object but I don’t care. I’ve been an outcast for so long.”

 

Jesse scoffed. “You’ll find a way? Benji, you haven’t been with us for at least four months. How can a green leaf like you possibly find a way to outsmart the veterans who have fought long before you even held a gun? I’m not letting you get us killed. Let’s just get a car and runaway when we get to them.”

 

But there was a glint in Benji’s eyes that night, one that shows up when he does his magic tricks. Driven and unpredictable. “Your doubt in my skills undermines me, Jess, really. I’ll get Beca safe. Do you trust me?”

 

“Do you need to ask?”

 

“Do you _trust_ me?”

 

“Yeah, of course.”

 

“Good.” Benji chuckled. “Because doubt is the root of failure.”

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

“Come on, Beca. We’re not far.”

 

“You know this p—”

 

Aubrey and Beca stopped for a second when the tunnel vibrated. The gunshots had started. The pair picked up their pace. The faint gunshots showed no signs of stopping even until they reached their destination. They stopped in front of a circular metal door, one that looked like one of those manhole lids. Aubrey took another key from her pocket. It was gold this time. She gave Beca one stern glance before unlocking the door and pushing it with her bare hands. “She just does what she is told.”

 

Beca squinted at the light. The chamber’s ceiling was higher than the basement itself. The hot humid air gushed out, the cool air-conditioning wrapping around her tight. It was no larger than a bedroom, with all kinds of ammunitions strapped to the wall, floor to ceiling, making the room look like it was in Dalmatian print. There were two doors on the opposite end of the room with the same manhole-lid door.

 

Stacie, who sat on the only sofa in the middle of the room, bolted up. “About time you got here.”

 

“Only the two of you?” Aubrey locked the door behind her. She glanced at Chloe who stood next to handgun station.

 

“The only two who can still tell what’s possible from the impossible. Everyone else is with mom. Anyway, I’ve called our neighbors and the rest of the members for S.O.S. We should be fine.”

 

“But it won’t take them long to find out where we are.” She dashed to the glass-encased rifles and used her gold key again. “Hey, this is really useful.”

 

“I told you so.” Stacie walked over to her casually, a smile on her face.

 

“Please explain to me how you still remain calm.” The blonde fumed, almost shoving the suppressor onto the rifle she was holding.

 

“I don’t actually know. Maybe because I’m used to having my life on the line.” Stacie leaned against the glass encasement. “The Dragunov already? Is it _this_ important?”

 

“Not funny anymore, Stacie.”

 

“It wasn’t a joke.”

 

“Can you not feel our looming deaths? Valor is just a few doors away. We’re lucky if they miss this secret room. But even then, if we don’t get out here as soon as possible, we’re all going to die.” The blonde turned to her, one perfect eyebrow raised. “I’m not gonna let that happen, so go get your stuff and we’ll leave immediately.”

 

“They’ll find us, alright. We’re in the middle of nowhere and we got ourselves surrounded. Even if we get out, they’ll kill us the moment they see us. It would be better if we wait. Montgomery’s just a few minutes away.”

 

 “We still need to prepare ourselves in case we get trapped in here.” Aubrey held the Dragunov SVD and peeked through the eyepiece.

 

“You shoot?” Beca couldn’t help but interrupt. And a sniper rifle, too. The thought of the morally logical Aubrey holding a gun was so absurd that she didn’t even give it a second thought.

 

Aubrey cleared her throat. “Yeah… A bit.”

 

Stacie choked on her breathing and pretended to look intently at whatever preparation the blonde was doing. The brunette’s attention turned to the redhead who scoffed. She noticed her the moment she entered the room, leaning against the wall.

 

They stared at each other for a while, Aubrey and Stacie’s conversation buzzing at the back of their heads. How Chloe avoided her in the Royal Ball, how she allegedly killed Kelly and her father, how she almost killed her not so long ago… Beca must have poured her emotions in her face because on the other side, Chloe’s features contorted with pain.

 

“What am I to you?” The brunette tried to sound as calm as possible. “Because I’m tired of this. All of this. I don’t know what to believe in anymore.” She inched slowly to the redhead. Her eyes were aching, her lips quivering in fear, not for her life but for the truth. “Chloe, did you kill my father?”

 

“It’s not what you think, Beca. I was—” The ginger looked like she was about to cry.

 

“Did you or did you not kill my father?”

 

Chloe looked away. Beca took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling to force the rush of misery back in. “I can’t believe it.”

 

“I…I was given orders. I’m sorry…”

 

There was a frightening gap of silence before the brunette mustered her courage to speak again. “I can’t believe I trusted you. Everything was well played. I get it now. You…” She clenched her jaw, completely disregarding the pain on her shoulder. “ _You_ killed my dad so that I—that I’ll be weak enough for you to manipulate. You knew didn’t you? That I was a Vancleave? You killed my dad, took advantage of me so that I’ll side with Valery. And when I learned the truth from Jesse, you were left with no choice but to get rid of loose ends.”

 

“It’s not what it looks like, Beca.” Tears streamed down Chloe’s electric blue eyes. “Please, trust m—”

 

“I don’t think I could trust anyone here.” The brunette glared at everyone in the room, her eyes watery. Stacie and Aubrey had been listening; they stood there, dumbstruck at how Vancleave’s heir put her own puzzle pieces together.

 

“Quite the detective, aren’t we?” Stacie chuckled. She headed to the other side of the room and faced the wall of heavy machine guns. “How long did it take you, Beca? Four months? Five?”

 

“You disgust me.”

 

“You’ll have the luxury of bickering for how long you want if we get out here alive.” Aubrey was done stocking two knapsacks with bullets and grenades and handguns. She swung one over her shoulder, her Dragunov in one hand while the other tucked a pistol on the hem of the waist of her jeans. She handed Beca the other knapsack. “Use your good shoulder. Come on.”

 

Beca’s eyebrows furrowed. And there’s Aubrey showing all signs of not being herself. _Unless, she was an entirely different person from the start_. “What?”

 

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Be rational, Beca. I’m not a Valery. You can trust me.”

 

“What about them?”

 

“Oh, you care about them now? They’ll manage. This place is safe as a safe.”

 

A life was a life. “For all I knew, you could be walking me into some kind of trap.”

 

She chuckled. “I told you, I’m not a Valery. We don’t have much time, let’s go.”

 

Beca turned to Stacie who just shrugged a “Go on,” She could be smiling, or just forcing one, Beca couldn’t tell. When she turned to Chloe, the ginger had her back on her, loading half a dozen of pistols on the counter. Truthfully, she didn’t want to leave anyone but Beca’s mind was still occupied, trying to separate the real from the scripted. Did Chloe use her feelings, too? Beca couldn’t bring it up. Guns and death didn’t scare her. Chloe’s back did.

 

“Even if you’re not Valery, why should I follow you?” She asked, carefully swinging the knapsack on her good shoulder. It weighed a lot for her small frame but she managed. The blonde on the other hand looked like she was just carrying a couple of notebooks.

 

The Aubrey in front her was the complete opposite of the one she had known all this time. She got her golden key out again and used it on the right door on the opposite end of the room. Beca, instinctively, followed even if the blonde left her question unanswered. It was another tunnel, a continuation of the sewers; dark, moist and foul. A bright light flickered at the end, which seemed to go only in a straight path.

 

“See you soon.” Stacie had smiled before Aubrey turned to close the door.

 

“Soon.” The blonde smiled back before the heavy door sucked the light back in the other room. Her cheek shimmered for a split second before she wiped it with the back of her hand and led the way again.

 

Beca turned to have a good look, but even with the light from the end of the tunnel, it wasn’t enough to see Aubrey’s face. “What about them?” She asked again. “You just left Stacie?”

 

“A captain never abandons his ship. Besides, Chloe’s with her. It’s unspoken of but she’s one of the best when it comes to shooting.”

 

Then a thought hit Beca. The only Valery in the Barden Bellas… The one who pointed the gun at Donald back in her father’s funeral when they encountered Valor… Donald, who was Bumper’s right hand…  Alice’s excessive jealousy of her… Sticking with Stacie in the Royal Ball… Beca’s heart faltered a beat. “It’s her all along. Chloe is Stacie’s right hand.”

 

“Unspoken of too, but most of them already know. It has always been Chloe.” Aubrey said. “The prodigy. The cold-blooded. She’s my best friend but I still have my limits. I know she’ll kill me if she wants to—and given enough reasons, of course.”

 

Beca could only ask. “…Why?”

 

“Not ‘why’ but ‘why not’. It’s as if she enters a murderous trance every time she carries out orders—especially Eloise’s. I didn’t see her do it, but I couldn’t blame Chloe if she _did_ kill Dr. Mitchell. She doesn’t get back to her senses until it’s over. If I could only un-see how she killed Kelly, I would gladly give my soul for it. After her trance, an entirely guilt-filled ego shows up.”

 

“Was that it? When she shot me?”

 

“Yeah. She could’ve killed you easily, Beca, but she didn’t. I hope it was because you’re the only one who can keep her sane.”

 

Beca took a deep breath. With the eerie silence of the sewers, her eyes suddenly widened at the sound of gunshots. They picked up pace. The gunshots seemed closer than they were before. Definitely not in their direction, but in the safe room’s. Beca’s mind lingered, suddenly filled with regret, if Chloe’s back will be the last she sees of her.

 

“So why are you trying to save me?” She asked.

 

Aubrey chuckled, a bit surprised. “You solve puzzles that are miles away but you can’t solve the one that’s right in front of you?”

 

Beca’s eyebrows furrowed at the bright light that inched closer with every step. “I don’t understand.”

 

“Seriously?” The blonde laughed quietly. “I’ve been keeping you safe for the longest time. I’m a Vancleave, Beca. I’m your right hand.”

 

 

 


	15. Timeline

 

The night sky was sprinkled with stars, fireworks lighting it up at least once every fifteen minutes. Jesse stood beside a white Maserati, using the bright headlights to get a good look on his arm. He was in a different level of sick. He was experiencing nausea for the longest time in his life and his stomach was empty even though he was eating sufficiently. The veins on his arm bulged, his skin turning a purple-ish blue.

 

“You’ll be fine.” said Benji, his lean frame on top of the shiny car.

 

“I don’t think I could last another week.” Jesse sighed with a smile.

 

Benji chuckled. “I said you’ll be fine.” He looked ahead the dark tunnel in front of them then to the narrow stream of waste water coming out of it. “We’ve been here for two hours. They’re gonna come out anytime now.”

 

“I still think this is one of your stupidest ideas. Why don’t we just go in and get them?”

 

“Dude, you don’t go in there unless you’re a Valery. They run the whole thing in this part, even the sewers. Besides, who will welcome them when they get out?”

 

“What makes you sure they aren’t trapped with Jude in there?”

 

“And I thought you could catch up pretty fast. We’re their signal, okay? They’re gonna get out through that hole and we’re their directions.”

 

Jesse had been pretty convinced that Benji’s intelligence was more inclined to the fictional part. “How exactly do you know that they’re gonna get out?”

 

“Ugh, please.” Benji groaned, exasperated. “Long story, bud. Let’s just wait it out here.”

 

After a few minutes, light flickered from the darkness. Jesse inched closer to the mouth of the tunnel, sensing movement. Benji jumped from top of the car and dusted himself. “See, I told you they’ll come soon.”

 

Aubrey and Beca came out of the sewers silently. The brunette took a deep breath, taking in the fresh night air and cleansing the foul stench of the sewers out of her system. She reeled her mind away from the sting on her shoulder, clenching her jaw. 

 

Jesse rushed to her aid, getting her knapsack with his good arm. “What’s this—ammunition? Beca, are you alright?”

 

“Don’t go near me.” She crouched, blinking hard. “I’m in a psychologically disruptive state from too many people keeping secrets from me.”

 

“Give her time, Jesse.” said Aubrey. She put her rifle on the hood of the Maserati, as well as her heavy knapsack ammunition and wrapped her arms around Benji who stood with arms open. “Oh, come here.”

 

“Oh god. And all this time you and Stacie are gonna get married in New York.” Beca took a deep sigh, her eyes lost on the mat of stars above.

 

Benji had a huge smile on his face. “They are.”

 

“Oh—” Aubrey turned to Beca, her face apologetic. “It’s not what you think. Benji’s my half-brother. Um, we’re planning not to tell anyone until this is all over but there’s no point in hiding anyway. You already know I’m a Vancleave and he—”

 

Jesse’s jaw dropped. “You’re a _what_?!”

 

“Surprise, surprise.” Beca rolled her eyes. “She’s the Vancleave Stanley Gordon was talking about—”

 

“Bumper confirmed it to be Joseph Mitchell. He even showed us how they tracked him. It was Donald’s team. Unicycle’s too.”

 

“Oh _did_ he? Anyway, it’s not my uncle. Someone in the university, famous for the face…  Oh, who could be more famous than the head of the Barden Bellas, Aubrey Posen, who threw up in front of thousands of people in last year’s ICCA’s? That’s right, no one. Makes perfect sense.” Her eyes glared from Aubrey to Benji, whose face was as smug as ever. “I’m guessing you’re a Vancleave too.”

 

Benji turned to Jesse who looked paler by the second. “Sorry, Jess. Seems like someone like me can outsmart the veterans.”

 

“You knew they were gonna come out here all along?” asked Jesse.

 

“I told you to trust me.”

 

Jesse’s eyes went blank for a moment. He crouched beside Beca. “Oh. _Oh_. _Wow_. Cool.” He muttered. “Let me just backtrack everything you’ve done and make something sensible out of the idea that you’re a Vancleave. How could you keep that a secret!?”

 

Beca took a deep breath. “I know, right? Like none of this would happen if everyone just told the truth.”

 

“Thanks for the headlights. This is Bumper’s, isn’t it?” asked Aubrey, her fingers trailing over the smooth edge of the car. She got to the driver’s seat, marveling at the wide and sleek inside of the sports car. “Hm, I’d still prefer a Mercedes.”

 

“It went perfectly well. Jude insisted on taking Jesse back to the HQ. Almost everyone was in there, though. But right after we left I think I caught a glimpse of a Bugatti Veyron. I wasn’t sure if it was…”

 

“Who else owns a Veyron on this side of the planet? That’s most likely Denver Montgomery showing off. Stacie called for SOS.”

 

“Well, most of them are dead anyway.” Benji got the rifle and the knapsack, putting it in the compartment. He took Beca’s knapsack in Jesse’s hands and sat in the passenger’s seat. “Seems like we have our own patients to take care of, Bri.”

 

“At least yours isn’t a pain in the ass.”

 

“I’m right here.” Beca voiced out.

 

“Come on, you two. We have to get back to the King’s house. It won’t be long before Jude discovers we’re not there. I just hope he’s more interested in finding Eloise first.”

 

“What about Stacie and Chloe? We’re just going to leave them there?” Beca stood up with Jesse’s help and sat in the back seat, closing the door behind her.

 

The engine revved smoothly, barely making any sound. Aubrey smiled at her from the back view mirror.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

2:23am of the 29th. Beca’s head felt heavy on the headrest of the backseat. She lifted her head, rubbing her eyes, yawning. Jesse sat beside her, the side his face against the back of Benji’s headrest, snoring.

 

“Yeah, she’s safe. The gunshot’s healing fast. Jesse’s here too… We’re doing our best… Yeah… See you later…” Benji was wide awake, his reflected face from the tinted windows, stern. A serious Benji was downright weird and scary at the same time. The streets were crowded, normal people were partying for the New Year. Police cars lined up along the sidewalk.

 

“Before my mom, who controlled the police? Valery and Valor have been running around carrying guns for a long time.” Beca was almost convinced that they’ve proven useless the entire time. When something happens, you don’t call the police. You either call Valery or Valor. “And doesn’t the mayor pay attention to all the shit that’s happening?”

 

“The same time the organizations solidified in the entire continental U.S., the Cavendish took responsibility in unifying the police force. We’ll mind our own business and they’ll mind theirs.” said Aubrey, sounding tired. “All organizations have connections to the government security anyway. Except us. Luckily we still have the police to camouflage ourselves with... The Bellas wanted to have a New Year celebration. Even asked me to tell you, Chloe and Stacie.” She scoffed. “Partying, in a time like this?”

 

Beca just nodded, her attention beyond the windows of the car. The Grill whizzed past them, a crowd in front of the entrance. Heads turned at the sight of the sports car. A couple of men holding bottles of beer waved, unable to see that it wasn’t Bumper on the driver’s seat.

 

In no time, they passed by the arched gates of Joseph Mitchell’s residence. It was a couple of minutes away from the main road, away from prying eyes, the crescent moon shining down the gothic cones. It looked like a haunted house from afar, the one where you don’t make it out alive, but Beca was used to it after year after year of spending Thanksgiving in it when she was a kid.

 

Jesse was a different case. Even after they had gotten out of the car his jaw was still on the ground. “I’ve been here in the last 24 hours but I still can’t get over how amazing this house is. It radiates some sort of ancient power. I can see why Jude was frustrated with you spending your wealth on stuff like these.”

 

“Says the one who’s got the sports car.” Aubrey scoffed.

 

“Doesn’t Valor have a mansion too?” asked Beca.

 

“All we have is an underground freezer.”

 

“Selfish dicks.” Aubrey commented, shaking her head.

 

Three guys in suits were standing on the front porch. They bowed low when the group approached the mansion. Beca wasn’t familiar with the two but she recognized the russet-haired one. His entire left arm was in a cast, his nose broken. The bridge of his glasses was taped temporarily.

 

She stopped in her tracks. “Payne. You made it back.” It was a sigh of relief. She was sure that it wasn’t Jaq and the twins’ bodies in the training room. The smell shouldn’t be that awful and their flesh would have still been in the natural color but they were gone with no trace of coming back.

 

“I always come back to where I belong.” Payne said. “Jaq told me to run. Not to look back. I don’t have an idea what happened to them.”

 

“We’ll find them. I’ll make sure we will.” Beca nodded, sensing the guilt behind his cold façade. She still took a huge blow. It was as if she could not protect her own. Payne wasn’t the type to run when faced with danger but he looked like the one who always chose the option that would save his life and give him another chance to come back with bitter revenge. The sensible one.

 

Benji pushed the mahogany doors open. The grandfather clock that stood on the corner of the wide living room read 3am but the scene looked like it was in the middle of the day. Everyone was awake. A long table was now on the center of the room, the couches pushed back against the walls. The chandeliers and the pin lights on the high ceiling were all lighted up as if the owners did not mind if their electric bill shooting up by several hundred dollars. Everyone in the room, half a dozen of them, hovered above the long table, looking at maps and blueprints. The murmuring and hushed voices stopped and they all turned to Beca to half-bow in courtesy.

 

Virginia, who was all dressed up in Valery’s fashion of black leather jackets, skinny jeans and heels, looked no older than forty. She was about to embrace her daughter when she eyed the bandage on her shoulder. “Oh no they _didn’t_.”

 

“I just got caught up when Valor came.” Beca cleared her throat. She, on the other hand, was more concerned of the presence of the strangers. “Look, mom, if you want me to trust you have to tell me everything I need to know because I’m seriously getting tired of surprises. If you think they’re fun, well they’re not anymore.” Her eyes flew to Aubrey and Benji, who were looking at the plans on the table. “You can’t just expect me to do things when I don’t even know who goes in and out of this house. And where did you get all of these people?”

 

“ _These_ people?” Virginia laughed. “These people have been paving the path for Vancleave’s return long before you were born, honey. Aubrey, dear, why don’t you brief Beca of what’s really happened?”

 

“I’ve heard everything from Aubrey. What’s the plan? What scheme are you cooking up again without me? At least give me even a little hint. I want to be sure I’ll be able to handle the surprise.”

 

“Aubrey hasn’t told you enough.” The older woman gestured to the long table. “Our timeline tells us it’s time to find Eloise. By all means, take a look. Maybe you’ll come up with something.” She turned to Jesse. “You too, Valor.”

 

Jesse took a quick glance at the plans on the table. “Donald’s group has checked the area. Eloise isn’t there.”

 

“You tell me.” Virginia chuckled, going back to her place at the table’s capital.

 

Beca approached the long table and peeked at the blueprints. She didn’t need to be an architecture student to make something out of the drawings. It was a plan of Valery’s mansion. All rooms were drawn into detail, the measurements accurate. There were a number of rooms she never thought existed, secret doors that led to even secret meeting places. The walk-in-closet of the room she shared with Chloe led to the central room of the entire mansion. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Eloise is still _in_ the mansion.”

 

“Yes, and very well hidden.” A tall slim woman with huge almond eyes and supermodel built patted her on the back. Beca bored her with her dark-shadowed eyes. “Oh yes—I’m Jane Devereux. My family has been with Vancleave for as long as I can remember. It’s a pleasure to live in its generation of rebirth.”

 

“Valery has _always_ been one step ahead.” Aubrey scoffed, a sly smile on her lips.

  
“Jesse Swanson!” Joseph Mitchell looked down from the grand staircase. He was in a lab gown, his hands covered with surgical gloves. His eyes surveyed the crowd around the long table before narrowing his eyes. “Ah, there you are. Come up here, I’ll get you fixed.”

 

Jesse looked around until he was sure he was the only one named _Jesse Swanson_. He approached the staircase reluctantly. “Wait, what?”

 

“He’s going to fix you, man.” Benji ushered him. “Go on. You’ll be fine.”

 

“You mean he’s—”

 

“Yes. He’s a surgical doctor. One of the best in the world. Consider yourself treated.”

 

“Right here? Now? He has all the tools? Is he doing this b—”

 

“Less talk, more walk, bud.”

 

Benji assisted him up the stairs. Jesse had his free hand on his face, trying so hard not to cry. A huge thorn was plucked out of Beca’s heart, the wave of relief enough to make up for her lack of sleep. Virginia ushered her and Aubrey to take time to relax and promised Beca nothing will be done without her consent. Whatever plan they had to carry out was to be done in no less than twelve hours. They would have to wait for Forsberg’s delivery of special ammunitions. Without the knowledge of Valery’s hidden rooms, Valor would be forced to wait it out until things get clear.

 

 

\--

 

 

Aubrey and Beca sat in front of the fireplace in the next room. The hearth crackled in front of their eyes, the soft buzzing of the voices in the next room growing fainter by the minute. Though they were told to get some sleep, the constant worrying of what might have happened to Chloe and Stacie, and Jesse’s operation kept them wide awake.

 

“I’m waiting for you to tell me whatever it is that you haven’t told me yet.”

 

“Just ask away, Beca.” Aubrey sighed. “It’s hard enough to know where to start.”

 

“Sheesh, fine. So your family, like, descended from members of Vancleave?” asked Beca. She sat on the floor, arms on top of her folded knees.

 

“Yeah. My granddad was a right hand too. The people in the living room were also descendants from previous members of Vancleave. The only way to resurrect the organization was to regroup the old members, or what was left of them.” The blonde frowned a little. She knew the next question and answered without even letting the brunette ask. “I don’t personally like it. So does Benji. We’re forced in this life too, Beca. You’re not the only one.”

 

Beca’s eyebrows furrowed. “How?”

 

“It’s a long story but let me sum it up for you. I’ve known Benji since I was nine because that’s when my dad remarried—went back to his first love. Benji’s mom. I was stupid enough to believe that he never truly loved my mom. Turns out dad left so that Benji could take Peter’s place.”

 

“Peter.”

 

“My one and only legitimate brother, yes. One day, they came, like gods. The first time I saw them I was shaking with fear. Virginia alone sent chills down my spine. Together with Jonathan, they were unstoppable.”

 

“Wait—my parents came to you?” Beca paused for a while to think, backtracking the memories of her childhood and the time she spent in her uncle Joseph’s, the very mansion. Though as naïve as she was, the thought that her parents had alter-egos never crossed her mind. “That explains the month long out-of-town trips.”

 

Aubrey leaned back on her seat. “You know what’s funny? Dad just gave us up, like he was just waiting for the day to come. Peter was spared and Benji took over. Since then we followed your parents with every order, trained the rest of our childhood and forced to lie in front of our friends.” When Beca glanced at her, the blonde’s eyes were just on the crackling hearth as if she was talking to herself. “We left Valery hints and they fell for it. When they took Chloe, Stacie got me, making me look like I was an accidental addition to the group.”

 

“…Does Chloe know that you’re a Vancleave?”

 

Aubrey turned to her, eyes holding the pain that she tried so long to hide. She shook her head. “That’s why we have to continue whatever this is. You have to trust your mom and your uncle because they’re all what we have. We can’t fail.” Her tone was urgent, her fists balled. “I’ve lost my life to _this_ , Beca. I want to get it back. I want to be normal again. Be with the Bellas and sing our hearts out.”

 

It was minutes before the brunette asked again. “Was it real, the hate?” asked Beca, her tone hushed. “I’m guessing you don’t like authentic. Tradition is everything, Ms. Posen?”

 

Aubrey was staring blankly at the fire. “I was jealous.” When the brunette shot her a warning look, the she chuckled. “You just seemed so authentic. You’re not afraid of who or what you wanted to be. I can’t do that… I have to meet a level of expectation without the risk of losing my identity.”

 

Their eyes met, crystal blue and sea green. The perfect Aubrey Posen, jealous of her? Beca smiled.  Tt was okay. Aubrey smiled back. Not a minute later they were both staring at the fire again, shaking off the building tension and awkwardness.

 

“Your relationship with Stacie,” Beca started.

 

“Is the same thing you have with Chloe.” Aubrey nodded. “…Only on another scale.”

 

Beca’s eyes narrowed. What did she have with Chloe? Sure they’ve insisted to sleep in the same bed instead of having two twin beds in their room. The late night talks, the cuddles to get each other to sleep, the natural intimate skinship, in what category did they belong? Because Beca had been quite sure for a long time that she was in love with Chloe Beale. It was unsaid but they both understood what they felt for each other—and they let themselves be. Because even if she wasn’t an heiress, even if underground organizations didn’t exist she would have confessed to Chloe either way. Her feelings for the other girl were too compelling to ignore, the tension too heavy for her to bear.

 

The sad thing was the doubt that Chloe did not do everything because of what she felt for her—because there was a fine line between pretending and loving. For all she knew, Chloe could have just been given orders to get her to Valery.

 

“How did the sadistic ballerina bitch slash a sex maniac turned to be someone you need?” asked Beca when she realized she was starting to over think again. “I can see how you look at each other. And it’s different from what Chloe and I have. It’s like you wanted to kill each other but you can’t live without each other at the same time.”

 

“That’s the funny thing. Stacie has the look that says ‘you don’t know me at all.’ ” Aubrey turned to Beca, half her face lighted up by the fire. “But I do. Ever since I met her she’s been always so good at hiding, at running away from her own emotions.” Her sea green eyes melted with the grace of the hearth. “She might look like a heartless sadistic bitch to everyone but I know she’s got so much love in her heart. So much that the thought of letting people feel it scares her to death. It took me a while to figure out that her temper and anger is just a way of her channeling her feelings. She might really want to kill me for my attempts of wanting to get to know her but I know she’s just looking out for me. I do the same in return.”

 

For the first time Beca felt like hugging the other girl. Aubrey saw Stacie in an entirely different light. She was trying so hard to understand her that she had become selfless. Beca shut her eyes, realizing her mistake. She should have heard the ginger’s side, should have tried to understand her. Losing her dad was painful enough. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she lost Chloe too.

 

Beca turned to Aubrey whose eyes were lost in deep thought. “Let’s get them back.”

 

The blonde’s face brightened as she stood up. “About time you said that.”

 

 

\--

 

 

Heads turned at their departure, Virginia’s voice at the back of their heads. Beca changed into another set of leather jacket-jeans-and-combat boots get up after Aubrey changed the dressing of her bandage. It had been less than a day since she was shot but the wound was closing up, her skin healing itself with inhuman speed. With innate combat skills and quick regeneration, Beca realized why people were so entranced with them, giving their own lives to serve them, doing everything they can to help a family they barely know. It was the survival of the fittest. They were aware that a time will come where they would wage wars again, the second Blood of Ash, and the only thing they could do was to strengthen their side; serve their royalties, give them more power to protect their state because that would mean saving them and their families.

 

“I told you to wait it out, didn’t I?” Virginia stopped them the moment she saw the pair with their knapsacks. The other people in the room stared at them, wide-eyed.

 

“Mom, I can’t let them die. Chloe and Stacie are important to us.” The brunette said, her eyes hard on her mother’s.

 

“They’re Valery. We don’t dance with them.”

 

“Even if she’s their Princess, Stacie chose to side with us. She knew the consequences yet she made her decision. It’s because she knew Valery was wrong from the beginning yet she played her part for us, mom. She knew Eloise had been lying to her all this time but she endured it for our sake.” Beca voiced out for Aubrey, who had been clenching her jaw so hard. “At least she deserves to live.”

 

“We threatened her, dear daughter.” Virginia’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Let her do as told and Valery will end with Valor.”

 

Beca’s eyebrows furrowed. _Valery will end with Valor?_ She glanced at Benji who stood around the table. His eyes dropped down to the plans. The brunette rushed to the long table, zipping past the rest of the members who tried to block her way. Aubrey followed closely. They weren’t just architectural plans of the Valery mansion at all. There were plans of their underground too, as well as the sewers and their safe room. There was a long red line that stretched from the table’s opposite sides. Dates were written over them in black ink, the descriptions under them written legibly. The day her father died, the day Jesse got in Valor, the day she got in Valery… Her eyes darted as far as she could see and saw her own birthday—a timeline of everything that happened and will still happen.

 

December 28, 2013:

_-Queen to sign deal with Forsberg for ammunition_

_-Prince to get called by Princess to the mansion_

_-Valor twin to provoke Prince_

_-Princess to go to Valery mansion_

_-Valery to hold Princess and Prince captive_

_-Valery twin to secure the Princess’s safety_

_-Valor twin to report to Valor Prince about Prince’s captive_

_-Valor to attack Valery_

_-Valery Princess to ask help from Montgomery Prince_

_-Valery twin to give the signal to Valery Princess_

 

Her heart thundered in her chest in realization that everything had happened exactly according to plan. Everything was manipulated. She turned back to the date today. December 29, 2013, her throat as dry as sawdust.

 

_-Twin’s return with Princess and Prince_

_-King to Prince operation_

_-Valery Princess to sacrifice to end Valor_

_-To find Eloise in the Valery mansion_

_-To keep Prince and Princess in the mansion until Valery and Valor are done_

 

Before Beca could process the information, Aubrey was already protesting. “You said Stacie and Chloe would hold them off! You never mentioned that my command would lead to Stacie’s suicide mission!”

 

Beca turned to her mother. Just the thought of having everyone’s moves calculated up to this very moment drove her insane. “You _what?!_ ”

 

Virginia took a deep breath, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Though fear was evident on the rest of the member’s faces, they kept their lips shut. “This is why I told you to wait for us to end. Our plans don’t stretch to the end of spring.”

 

“You’re letting Stacie and Chloe die?!”

 

“With the rest of Valor, yes. It needs to be done, Beca.”

 

“You never told me about this!” Aubrey protested. She gave Benji a quick glance. Her brother looked away. She couldn’t blame him. He was only following orders too.

 

Beca clenched her jaw, her mind going numb. She stormed off, her steps heavy as she went for the front door. Playing them like pawns and dictating their lives, it was absurd. The lie that Aubrey put up, that Benji was only her half brother, stung deep in her heart. The brunette wondered why she needed to lie about the fact that they were twins. Jesse as the Prince, the future King, she needed to know about that too. Her theory was that he was the black horse, the unexpected surprise. Valor would never inject him with their brand had they known that he was from the original bloodline.  Aubrey followed her quickly, their steps echoing against the silence of the mansion. Beca summoned six of the black suited who guarded the door, meeting their shaded eyes for only a fraction of a second. She turned to Payne, who followed her with a smirk tugging the corner of his lips.

 

“Won’t you stop them?” Jane Devereux had asked Virginia who only watched them in amusement.

 

“ _Tick tock_ , said the clock. Time’s running out.” The older woman sighed and returned to the long table. “By the time they get there, everyone will be dead anyway.”

 

 

\--

 

 

She froze; her eyes on the dozen of handguns and bullets on top of the counter. She turned her gaze to the silver revolver that sat quietly at the center. A neat _C.B._ was engraved on the hilt. She closed her eyes and the last of her tears trailed down her cheeks. Did she even have the right to ask for Beca’s trust when all she had been doing was lie to her?

 

“They’re not gonna load themselves, you know.” Stacie said, her heels clacking on the tiled floor.

 

Chloe wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and went back to what she was doing. “You know we’re gonna die here one way or another.” When she turned around, the other girl was sitting on the sofa, her elbow resting on the safe end of a standing assault rifle. The unoccupied space on the couch was overflowing with bombs. A hundred, maybe two or three of all kinds, Chloe couldn’t tell. “What’s the use of loading guns if we’re doing a suicide mission anyway?”

 

“Props. It’ll look like we tried.” Stacie shrugged. Her free hand was tossing a small hand grenade on her palm and back up. “Not much of an effort anyway. We get Jude and Bumper in here and blow this place up. Problem solved. Vancleave will get what they want.”

 

“You know it’s not that simple. Valor will be choosing between you or Eloise. Apparently, you’re the one who hasn’t disappeared all of a sudden.”

 

“I did what was told of me. It’ll give Vancleave at least three days to finalize their plan. That’s the best we could do.”

 

“You know you’re on the borderline of psychotic and mentally deranged.”

 

Stacie chuckled. “I’ve long crossed that line, Chloe. Tell me you’re not like me one bit. Like Princess like right-hand, yeah?”

 

 “I’m still with my conscience, thank you.”

 

“Shut up. I’m sired to Aubrey just like how you’re sired to Beca.”

 

Chloe managed a small smile, the corner of her lips tugging to a familiar memory. It wasn’t even just about ending Valor anymore. Stacie was never insane to start with. If anything, she was the most rational and the most misunderstood. Gunshots came from the tunnel that led to the entrance of the room. Deep voices muttered beyond the wall, footsteps closing in. Chloe swung two ammunition straps over her shoulders, both her hands occupied by two machine guns, her revolver tucked in her back pocket. She stood behind the couch, resting the neck of the machine guns on both sides of Stacie’s head.

 

“If I lose one of my ears I’m gonna kill you.”

 

“That’s very sweet, Stacie. But that’s never going to happen” Chloe kept her guns steady. “If you’re a Princess in your next lifetime, I’ll still be your right-hand.” There was a loud clunk on the manhole-lid door. The next one dented the center. The third one busted the lock from the outside. The steel bar from the inside clanged noisily. The ginger took a deep breath, tightening her grip on the machine guns. Dying was never her option but if it meant saving Beca, she was all for it. “It was nice serving you, Princess.”

 

“For Beca, for Aubrey, for you…” Stacie smirked, resting one hand on the rifle, her finger on the trigger. She brought a grenade up to her lips with her other hand, kissing the shell. “And for all that’s right in the world.”

 

 


	16. Quicksand

 

She wasn’t aware when the dream started. One moment Beca was sitting in the back of a car, mind a mass of balled confusion, teetering on the edge of sanity. The next she was listening to Aubrey as she talked to Benji in loudspeaker, who was accompanying who, who was shooting who, how he was not to leave Jesse under any circumstances. Part of it was the lack of sleep, the other from the euphoria she wanted to numb herself with.

 

The silence of the sewers deafened her, her boots padding wetly through the shallow waters. Aubrey led the way, the Dragunov hung at her back, a hand holding a pistol while the other crossed over with a flashlight. While two Vancleave escorts watched their vehicle, four escorts walked beside them, all armed with guns with names she never knew except for Payne. Even as their heartbeats roared so loud that Beca thought she heard them, no one said a word. Gunshots came into hearing and they looked at each other in silent agreement, breaking to a sprint not long after.

 

If it was a suicide mission, Stacie would have blown the place to bits, Beca thought as she followed Aubrey’s light. The gunshots welcomed them back as if the fighting didn’t cease when they left a couple of hours ago. Were they still fighting Valor? Did the Montgomery heir arrive in time or were the victors of Valor the ones they arrived to? The break of dawn dizzied her thoughts, the exhaustion and the healing wound on her shoulder taking its toll on her petite figure.

 

Beca thought of Chloe as they ran to the metal door in haste. Chloe and her beautiful red hair, her bright blue eyes that sparkled with determination and sometimes with sadness, her thin lips she always wanted to kiss, the pitch of her voice and how she sang to her before she fell asleep. Her thoughts betrayed her heart. She knew Chloe didn’t kill her father. She couldn’t.

 

The crack of light from the slightly open door smelled of gunpowder and destruction and death. Aubrey crouched for a second, peeked and in one glance, her face changed to someone Beca did not know; she bolted up, swung the door open and ran straight into the battlefield in silent fury, the escorts at her tail, the heir of Vancleave all forgotten. Beca hesitated before following her, waiting for the mist of dust and gunpowder to clear her vision. It was her first encounter, she thought, the gun shots and screaming and dust all too alien. Valery’s safe room of ammunitions had become a trap for the unfortunate.

 

A metal clinked right beside her foot and someone shouted, “Vancleave!”

 

The brunette jumped right past through the manhole door, carrying the weight of the guns and pistols on her good shoulder before landing to a heap of dirt and broken tiles. The grenade exploded and she scampered behind the wall where the machine guns were. But the shelves were emptied, the ammunitions all taken. She dropped the knapsack and held her pistol tight, her thumb brushing over the embedded crest of Vancleave on its handle, reminding herself who she was. The Princess of the lost bloodline. Vancleave’s sole heir. And until Jesse’s existence was to be explained, she was the last of her blood.

 

A streak of dark hair caught her eyes and there was Denver Montgomery, the fair and dark-haired prince, running, shooting, killing in frenzy. Aubrey stood behind the tall glass counter of pistols not far away, her rifle mounted, and shot her targets with ease. Stacie was across the room, smiling with her full red lips as she fired in the open.

 

Beca caught a glimpse of dark brooding eyes on her right and shot him by the leg before running behind the next wall. The pursuer marched, breaking the wall with heavy shots of a machine gun. Beca hoped the walls were made so that no bullet would pass right through it. She sidestepped, showed herself to him for a brief second, feigning an attack. Donald, face masked with murder, shot her and she ducked at the last second, pulling the trigger, almost afraid.

 

She missed.

 

How can she kill a boy she just sang against a few months back? The rapper who always teamed up with Bumper on pranks and bullies, does she have the right to end a life before it even started? After another exchange of shots, Beca found an opening, saw his face out in the open, eyes still shielded with his thick rimmed glasses, lips curving to a smirk as he readied to pull the trigger. But she knew how things would end for both of them by then. She could almost hear his nervous breathing apart from the all the other noises, saw how his hand shook with uncertainty, how his smile tried to mask his sadness. Beca shot first without hesitation and he fell this time, a bullet in his forehead.

 

Donald was Beca’s second kill.

 

Before the guilt piled up on her, she rushed to find her comrades, set the enemies from the allies above all things. If the Montgomerys had arrived, she would have to widen her parameter. On her extreme right there was Bumper, a raised gun in his left arm while his right arm dangled lifelessly on his side. His shirt was torn and tattered and a stream of red ran from his neck to the side of his torso yet he was still grinning as he fired at his unknown attacker.  Dead bodies of the members and escorts were scattered on the floor, faceless and unknown. The war of the royalty was only for the royalty. Years of training and experience were incomparable to the innate killer instincts of the bloodline.

 

She aimed at his side, slightly unfocused this time. Was it rational to kill someone who was not after her? Another grenade exploded from the left wing of the room opposite her and when she turned, Bumper was gone. The chaos resumed and there was Payne running across the room, discarding his glasses and pulling out a dagger from his side in a swift motion before thrusting it to an escort of Valor’s chest.

 

There was a choking sound behind her. When she turned around, an older Bumper came crashing down on her, blood gurgling out of his mouth with an open throat. The balding man with whiskers for a beard called Jude the King of Valor was dead at her feet. Beca looked up and there Chloe stood a knife in her hand and her silver revolver on the other, spots of blood all over her face, panting. Their eyes met.

 

Aubrey was not standing behind the glass counter anymore when she looked again and she hurried, Chloe watching her back. There was less noise now, the dust and gunpowder clearing up with the opening of both doors; the front and the back manhole lids. Black suited escorts were on the floor. Not far away, Payne’s glasses lied next to him as he swam in a pool of his own blood, his own dagger at the back of his head. Crazed eyes met her gaze and Beca’s hand shot to her left.

 

Bumper sat on top of one of the glass counters, eyes open, lips etched with the last of his smile, a bullet on his neck. “He’s dead.” said Chloe, shooting one of the last Valor escorts. “Unicycle managed to get away.”

 

It was then when Beca heard the dead. Denver Montgomery’s blue eyes flicked to her as he jabbered on his phone. A few steps away the Princess held the blonde in her arms, whispering words in her ear, combing her hair with her bloody hands. “It’ll be alright, Aubrey. You’ll be alright.” Stacie hushed, her sad blue eyes only regarding the woman in her arms. “You’ll be safe. I’ll keep you safe. I love you… I love you…”

 

Aubrey looked right past her Princess’s eyes and met Beca’s. Her lips quivered to say something but all she managed to do was smile. Beca stared, pulling her lips to smile back. Chloe held her hand but she wanted the dream to be over. She wanted to wake up to the tight competition of Barden Bellas and Treblemakers. She can’t continue to live in the surreal world where Princesses and Princes kill each other with their own hands and everyone was easily replaced upon death.

 

She blinked, hard and painful before finding herself in Chloe’s arms as they cramped on the couch in the cold. Beca was careful not to startle her awake when she removed her head under the ginger’s chin. Light filtered through the blinds, trying to warm her stiff body. She looked up and with the early rays, saw the hard traces of tears on Chloe’s face and for a second she forgot where she was.

 

On an identical couch across the mahogany coffee table sat someone who was Stacie before. She sat plainly, bare feet on the carpeted floor, wearing nothing but the undershirt she always partnered with her leather jacket and two-day old jeans. Her faded blue eyes were on Beca and Chloe, blank and bloodshot, her face gritty, her make-up smudged, her now faint red lips swollen.

 

Beca froze, wary at the other Princess’s state. “Stacie, you should get some sleep.”

 

“End this soon, Beca. Please.” Stacie pleaded for the first time, defeated. “I can’t lose her.”

 

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

 

Jesse was still in the clinic of Vancleave’s mansion, all the equipments around him state-of-the-art. The high gray ceiling seemed to stretch up to the sky, the immaculate white walls isolating him, the mixed smell of chemicals and medical equipment clinging to his skin. It was strange how his life revolved around an infection for the past few weeks. Now it revolved around the sound the machine beside him created, the IV tubes dug deep at the back of his hands. _Beep beep beep_. It went in a steady pace, reminding him once in a while that he was alive. 3:16pm, the wall clock read now, as he had been staring over the hands. There was a calendar not far away but his slightly blurred vision left him unable to see.

 

Benji hovered around him silently, his sea green eyes lighter than it had been as the bright fluorescent shone above. He looked more than his age, no longer a kid. There was something off in his frown that silenced Jesse as Joseph Vancleave’s aid, Liddie, left after checking his vitals. Jesse watched the snow melt on Benji’s hair. _Beep beep beep_. He didn’t want to speak first. Whatever words came out of his mouth were nothing now.

 

The greens were hard and cold on his brown ones. Benji _clicked_ again, turned his jovial mask off. Jesse still found it hard to believe that his immature geek of a roommate rightly belonged in the underworld.

 

“We lost them.” Benji broke the silence. When Jesse continued to stare, he continued, fists shaking at his side. “Beca, Chloe, Stacie and my sister took off with Denver Montgomery after they ended Valor. It’s been four days since Stacie contacted me. They threw all their phones and used the public ones. Aubrey— they said she was losing a lot of blood. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. If they’re on the run how can they treat her… How can they…”

 

Jesse narrowed his eyes.. Benji wasn’t a very good storyteller. “Ended Valor?” Their— _his_ brothers, they couldn’t have possibly killed them all. They were all trained and muscled and knew weapons well. They slaughtered the Valery girls in cold blood with the flick of a finger. Unless this Denver Montgomery brought a number of his host… Montgomery was their nearest neighbor, sworn to loyalty to Valery for the past fifty years. Bumper often jested that Anna Valery, Stacie’s grandmother, slept with all the male royalties of Montgomery in her time of ruling. Jesse sometimes wondered if it was true. “There are a lot of things I don’t know.”

 

“Joseph sent a group to investigate Valery’s warehouse a couple of days ago, with some members of Cavendish, the organization who controls the police force. I went with them.” Benji’s voice was dark and thick with grief. “Everyone was dead, Valor and Vancleave and Montgomery alike. Jude, Bumper and Donald’s bodies were there. Payne and Tommen and James and the others…”

 

“Is Unicycle dead too?” Jesse asked sharply. Just when his corrupted infection was closing, a new wound caused by his friend’s news started to bleed him on the inside. There were no softer words to soothe the pain crawling in his weak system.

 

It seemed like yesterday when Bumper boasted of his new car with a smile with the likeness of a mouse with a cheese in hand. Donald was betting with him on the number of girls he’ll get with the ride. “Who said I’ll let you in my baby?” Bumper scoffed, grinning. Donald said something Jesse could not remember but it made his ears red and he tackled to the taller guy to the ground, Unicycle, Benji, and a few of his brothers laughing in the sidelines. Jesse could not bring himself to think of the last of their booming laughter or their late night singing or their video game bets. It would not do.

 

“He wasn’t there. Either he escaped or Beca took him with them.” Benji’s eyes cleared.  “Why did you do it?” He asked, sitting beside him, the beeping machine behind him. For a moment Jesse almost forgot the sound.

 

“Do what?”

 

“Chloe Beale only shot the King on the arm. She didn’t kill him. She ran after that. You _know_ that Jesse. The royal blood could not possibly be killed by a bloody hand.” said Benji, his fingers tugging at the white sheet of the bed in front him. “What’s the point of all of these if you’re just gonna lie to Beca too?”

 

Jesse never forgot. His lie had become a part of the dead weights in his chest. Bumper counseled them a few months back, immediately after he joined Valor. He showed them footages, reports, and researches on Jonathan Mitchell’s death. It wasn’t like how Jude, Bumper and Donald held them against their findings on Vancleave, how they didn’t tell the rest of the organization of the bloodline they found. Jonathan’s death was different. It looked well played, almost scripted to the last detail. By _who_ , it was what they wanted to find out.

 

Jonathan was killed in the comfort of his own house with a damaged hand and multiple shots to the body. Chloe Beale did the hand with her revolver. Her face was up in the surveillance cameras Valor put in his house the week before; being Virginia’s ex-husband was enough to raise suspicions of his appearance in the same state as her. She jumped off the window after that like a thief, the cameras showing nothing but static images until Beca arrived with a baseball bat. No one but Valor knew of their findings as Jude and Bumper’s secrets died with them.

 

“She was the last seen with him. There’s no one else to blame.” said Jesse. He knew how Valor was viewed outside their walls. Brutes, savages, bloodthirsty. They had been so good at pretending that sometimes he believed he was one himself. “I don’t know how they managed to make Beca think that they’re just like sorority girls but Valery’s dangerous.” He slightly winced when his bandaged arm brushed against his side. “Just thinking of Beca living in the same house as her father’s killer makes me sick.”

 

“Everyone’s dangerous.” Benji shrugged, his eyes covered by the gleam of his glasses. “I could have played the geek until the end of the game and you still wouldn’t notice the spikes I put under your feet.”

 

It only took another look on his friend to know that Vancleave was far more dangerous than the two rivaling organizations combined. It was one of the most powerful organizations a century ago. What kind of power they boasted of and the types of Kings and Queens they produced, Jesse wondered.  “Is that your specialty, you and Aubrey—lying?”

 

“Lying is different from not telling everything.”

 

“What are you?” He spat.

 

“Twins.”

 

“ _Twins?_ Why’d you tell us you were just half siblings?”

 

“We’re not open to proclaiming ourselves openly as twins. Especially that Vancleave has a bad history of it. Call us shallow but it’s what we want.”

 

“Who am I and why did Joseph do all of this for me?”

 

“No one is sure.” said Benji. He _clicked_ again into another persona. The cold hard façade of Vancleave Beca was famously known for. “The refusal of your body to Valor’s chemicals could mean you’re one of the lost too.”

 

“Lost what, Vancleave? My reflexes are normal and my shooting is mediocre.”

 

“No one is sure.”

 

“Who do you really serve, Benji?” Jesse asked. From his answers, he neither liked nor disliked Virginia.

 

“Aubrey and I serve Vancleave, as our parents and our grandparents and their parents before had. We swore to keep the organization alive and protect Barden from its own evil. We knelt before Jonathan and Virginia Mitchell once but now he’s dead and she’s going to die soon.” He _clicked_ again, one last time in tune with the now rapid beeping of the machine behind him. “We swore to serve the one true heir to their throne. Beca Mitchell.”

 

 

 

\--

 

 

 

The fire was burning low in the fireplace, the warmth barely reaching his palms. He shivered once in a while. Even though he spent a couple of years in the state, Luke always left for California the first chance he gets, never spending the cold winter with his friends in Barden. He had been to cooler parts of the continent when he was young and it had been okay. It was only when he finished high school when he developed a weakness for the cold.

 

He felt eyes on his back, even imagining the hushed words from their mouths when they spoke of him, Vancleave members and escorts and their King and Queen alike. Though he became more conscious of himself, he was used to it. Vancleave was Forsberg’s equivalent on the east; extravagant, sly, unforgiving. On their walls hung gold and scarlet framed portraits of their royalties and ancestors, the proud brand of the organization and the adapted symbols of Valery and Valor underneath it and in one room Virginia showed him the tapestry she kept alive. Beca indeed was the last of their blood, un-groomed and unprepared. “I could only bear one child.” Virginia said as her long bony fingers circled Beca’s name. “We wanted her to enjoy her life before grooming her for the organization.”

 

It was one of the few things that made Vancleave distinct. Forsberg and most of the organizations weren’t like that at all. Luke’s father, the reigning King, William, sent him to a boarding school in London when he was eleven. One summer when Luke was home William told him who he truly was. They trained him, kept him in shape, taught him everything he had to know of the underground—the history, the reason for existence, the duty, the royalties, everything. When boys played with video games, Luke sniped birds hundreds of meters away. He was thankful, even if a part of his childhood had been bitten away because at his age he was ready to sit the throne should something happen to his parents unlike Beca, green and inexperienced.

 

Luke’s right hand Thalia and his best friend Mason wagered how long would Vancleave’s heir take before she goes crazy. Somehow he could tell the bet was coming to a close soon.

 

He had grown fond of Beca through their passion for creating music. Luke remembered the first time they met. She was late when Jesse had been waiting for almost an hour. She was a small fire back then but her flames were bright and blue and white, and she was different. Luke often observed her when she took over the booth, most of the time wondering whether she already knew or not. Jonathan Mitchell and his father go way back. It only took some amount to let Virginia be the generation’s confidante as Vancleave prepares for its return. Luke kept close watch on Stacie and Bumper by then.

 

Now Beca’s blue and white flames leveled with the torch of her mother and uncle’s, escaping Valor’s wrath, ending them and running away without any promise of return. After delivering trucks and caravans of ammunition Luke vowed to stay and called for reinforcements from the other side of the continent. He could not afford to sever the bond of Forsberg and Vancleave with the failure of Vancleave’s return. The moment it rises back to the superpower it was before the Blood of Ash, Forsberg too, shall rise with it.

 

“What do the Montgomerys say?” His gaze left the burning logs and he looked over his back where Joseph and Virginia were playing a game of chess.

 

There came the familiar sound of a piece as it landed, glass on glass. “Montgomery swore their loyalty to Valery. I can assure you that as long as Eloise or Stacie is with them, their organization is under Valery’s control.” said Virginia.

 

“Queen Eloise.” Luke returned to watch the dance of the flames. “You said she disappeared.”

 

“ _Check,_ ” Joseph said.

 

“She has done nothing worthy to be mentioned.” said Virginia after a mumbled curse. “We’re still researching why. Eloise would never back down in an encounter. Especially not against Jude. They’ve been at each other’s throats most of their ruling. What made Eloise run for her life?” She asked no one in particular.

 

“The heir must have done this.” Joseph added. “Stacie, was it?”

 

“She takes a lot from her mother. I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed Eloise herself.”

 

“Why would her own daughter kill her?” Luke asked. The eyes of the rest of Vancleave’s remaining members, all middle-aged and silent, were hard on his figure. It’s as if they were judging him, weighing his words worthy of their King and Queen’s ears. Luke felt more cautious than pressured.

 

“It’s just like how Beca wants to kill me as to how Jonathan wanted to kill his father.” Virginia said casually, not minding to take a glance at the Prince as she spoke. A wicked smile grew on her lips. “The heirs have the tendency to tear their parents’ limbs off. I’m not sure if Beca knows it herself but her eyes don’t lie.”

 

“You can’t just say that.” Luke’s forehead creased with worry, his accent hard. “I’d never kill my father or my mother.”

 

“Wouldn’t you?” Joseph spoke, readjusting himself to a more comfortable position. A sweat ran through the side of his head as he put his King to safety. “They created a monster out of you, of _us_ , as all Kings and Queens did with their children. They brought us to life yet took it away just when we found our reasons to live. We’re created out of love but were raised in hatred. We may be at peace now but every passing day the urge to overcome the rest of the organizations becomes stronger. All you Prince and Princesses have nothing else to do but to do what is best for your family as what we had done once.”

 

“The hatred is inborn. Luxor still had a King when almost everyone was dead but what did the Princess do? She put a bullet in his head before putting one in her mouth to end it all.” The woman leaned back with a victorious smile, moving her Queen on one tile to close Joseph’s King off. “Truth be told, Luke, once Beca realizes her hatred for me I would do just about everything to suppress her. The kid’s stronger than any heir I’ve ever seen—no thanks to Eloise. Oh, and checkmate, Joe.”

 

“Damn you.” Joseph said curtly, jaw hard. He arranged his pieces together. “Again.”

 

Luke would give mind to the hatred they spoke of but it was for another occasion. He loved his parents truly. They might be using him, yes, as any would but he liked it. He knew he has the capability to strengthen Forsberg and he would gladly do so, for he would not want the efforts of his parents and his ancestors to put to waste. Right now all he thought of was the burning fire in the hearth and the missing royalties.

 

“What are you going to do about Beca now?” He asked, helping Joseph rearrange Virginia’s white pieces. She was too lazy to do the chore herself.

 

“Nothing.” She said, waiting for them to finish. “I’m more concerned of Vancleave’s overall standing. The next time I see Beca, I’m sure she’ll either join me or destroy me. Why waste my time over someone I can’t control?”

 

“She got that from our line.” Joseph mocked with the uncertainty of a smile. “Stubborn yet determined. Once she starts she’s not going to stop until she gets what she wants.”

 

“How sure are you that she’s even going to come back?” Luke asked as the shadows loomed down the wide spiral staircase. He looked up to see two guys at the last step, their eyes on him. Green and brown they were, judging him too, just like the rest. Joseph stood up and went to Jesse, checking the dressing on his fresh bandage. The boy wore nothing but a white dress, his face and steps weak. Benji held him by the arm with a strange determination.

 

Virginia didn’t bother to look up as she moved her pawn, starting the game once again. She already knew who they were even with her eyes closed. “Good evening boys.”

 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s only been a week.” said Joseph. He waved and a couple of members standing from the side of room assisted Jesse to sit opposite Luke, the chessboard and Virginia between them.

 

Benji sat beside Jesse. He gave Luke a curt nod when their eyes met again, “Prince Luke Morgan of Forsberg.”

 

“Benji, I believe.” Luke nodded back. “It’s been a while, Jesse.” His eyes went to the other boy’s arm.

 

There had been talks going around, of a boy who defied the acceptance of Valor. It had been the talk of the royalties for some weeks ago, theories passed from one state to another. Some jested at the thought, _“Serves them right. Those cowards. I mean, why can’t they just brand people for Christ’s sake?”_ Marfori’s Jamie Hefley had said when they met at a coffee shop while Maxene Aldridge, also one of the few remaining organizations who kept their last name alive to this day with Montgomery, Chandler and Grimaldi, texted him once she heard the news, _“A special one, that is. It would take some superpower to reject Valor’s chemicals.”_

 

Luke was curious, as everyone was. He knew Jesse for a short while and there was almost absolutely nothing in him that made him stand out. The boy was quite than rather, average looking and a good voice enough for Troublemaker and his fire burned a low red and orange. What made him special, Luke thought as he studied his weary face. What made Vancleave’s royalties take a reject of Valor under their wing and treat him?

 

“Prince.” Virginia corrected. Her wicked smile was back on her aging face as she turned to Luke. “She’s to marry Beca when the time comes.”

 

There was a split second of silence before the gasps came, from both members of Vancleave and Jesse alike. Joseph and Benji were unsurprised.

 

Luke tried to keep a straight face but his eyebrows had furrowed ever so slightly. He hoped Beca wasn’t as insane as her mother. “It’s been a while, _Prince Jesse_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I apologize for the delay of this chapter. My muses ran off to a field of rainbows but I caught them now.


End file.
